


Lux Et Tenebrae

by joukaimokie



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Adult Themes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dark, Gen, Minor Character Death, Spoilers, human mikleo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joukaimokie/pseuds/joukaimokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>One was raised to be a savior, the other cursed to be a destroyer.</i><br/><br/>In order to protect the world once more Michael took an oath, one that would give his nephew the power needed to slay the hellions and act as the only barrier between Maotelus and the seal. But when the seal breaks a journey begins and destiny unravels with a meeting between the two who were always meant to be at each others' side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Tales of Zestiria does not belong to me and I am making no money off of this.
> 
> Notes: An AU on the events of Camlann, the idea unfortunately haunted me until it was put down.

Ripped and war-torn, a land of desolation filled with so much blood stretched out for what seemed like miles. That was the way his world had been for as far back as his own memory served. Scant few had survived the Massacre of Camlann, and those that had struggled to rebuild. So many battles ripped the land apart, torn between Rolance and Hyland. The peaceful died sooner than most. That was the lesson the young man had learned in his life. His uncle had taught him it well. 

The world outside this destroyed shrine in which they must fight in order to protect the same world that had turned their home into this.

His bangs ruffled as dust threatened to choke him and the amethyst eyes focused ahead. Far ahead he could make out the firm doorway of ruins that still stood tall. His staff dug into the dry ground as he took a step forward. The worn boots scuffed against the sand that gathered. 

Fingers ran over the leather bound book, the one his uncle had thrown down in disgust so many years ago before he whispered to himself, half-crazed with his despair, ripped apart by guilt. 

_All these shrines for those which they will never honor, never live with as they should. Pray to the seraphim for the need which they brought about. Pray for the Shepherd. It is not a myth as some say, no he is not my boy, but he is not a savior either. He will only bring more pain._

There was no hope to cling to. Nothing that could save them from the fate pressed down upon them. And so they learned to fight, neither side caring for the fate of those in the village destroyed long ago. Both countries were ruled by warmongers, both seeking to destroy the other. It was one that took over their home and another that attacked with the fleeing of the first. 

All because they held a strategical position. 

As he moved closer fingertips grazed over the stone, the marks upon it. It was sealed as it had been for as long as he could remember as hellions clawed their way into this place. Their purpose, as his uncle explained, was to guard this place should anyone ever break the seal. They were the defense against the malevolence of Maotelus. He could never escape past the seal and none could ever enter. 

It was their power alone that would stand between Maotelus and the outside world. 

“Mikleo, you left the shrine.” 

He hadn’t heard the footsteps but his head jerked upwards as he turned back towards his uncle. 

“I can’t protect the seal any better there than I can here,” Mikleo’s jaw clenched as his eyes leveled his uncle’s. The man gave a sigh as he rested his fingertips against Mikleo’s back. Instinctively he recoiled from his uncle’s touch, a rare thing as it was. 

“You look so like your mother,” he whispered quietly. “She gave her life to create that seal and an oath was taken to give you the power to stand the malevolence.” 

“So what makes me any different than the Shepherd you hate so much?” 

He shook his head sadly before the amethyst eyes gained a distant look, almost glassed over. “You cannot quell, only kill,” his voice was a whisper. “Do not hold to those tales,” his voice was tired, rough, and he looked down at the book within Mikleo’s hand in disgust. “There is no savior for those people. We are their only saving grace by keeping Maotelus sealed within this place.” 

Mikleo set his jaw as he glanced away. This place, this duty, was all he had ever known. It was the duty of his family to protect the people. As his mother sacrificed herself he too had to make a sacrifice. It was chosen for him as nothing more than an infant. But his sacrifice was to remain trapped in this place for eternity. That in itself was a slow, suffering death when all he wanted was to see that which his uncle wrote about in his book, to memorize ruins beyond the door that sealed away something more terrible than the world could ever imagine.

But this place was to be his grave. 

A fact his uncle reminded him of regularly.

 

“OW!” 

Sorey tested his limbs gingerly as he groaned. Well it didn’t seem like anything was broken. That was good news. Well at least as good as he could hope for. After he got his feet underneath him Sorey got to his feet and shielded his eyes as a grin appeared on his lips. 

“These ruins have to predate the Era of Asgard!” The green eyes lit up and nothing could convince him to remain still. Even if he had broken bones it really wouldn’t matter. Beneath the surface there was unexplored ruins that he could learn so much from. 

Pain or not, nothing was going to stop him. There was too much to learn and nothing would slow him down. Sorey ran forward and skid to a stop just short of the ledge. He gulped hard as stone crumbled and skittered down into the darkness. Arms swung out wildly in an attempt to stabilize himself before his body stilled and he exhaled slowly. 

Gramps was probably right about one thing. He would probably one of these days run out of luck. Well that day wasn’t today. 

A grin broke as Sorey stared down into the darkness and eyed the other side. Well there were a lot of chances that there was something interesting down there, if only he could get to it. Sorey paused for a moment. 

“Ah-hah!” He yelled as he dug a rope out and tied a loop around his body. Sorey quickly looped it around a rock and threw the end over the ledge before he let himself drop. Hands gripped it firmly as Sorey lowered himself down. There was no telling how deep it went but there had to be a bottom somewhere. And it couldn’t be that far. He was having second thoughts about that however as the muscles in his arms slowly grew tired and there was still no sign of the bottom, or any form of light. His feet hung loose and pressed firmly against the stone wall. Gravel came loose and Sorey flashed a grin as he heard an audible clank not far from his feet. He let himself slide down the rest of the way and hit the ground before he untied the rope and yanked it down. 

For a moment his face fell crestfallen. He couldn’t make anything out but the dark shadows that surrounded him. He really wanted to see more of the ruins. If he couldn’t see anything there was no way he could actually take a good look at the secrets the ruins held, much less properly date them. 

Sorey half stumbled over the loose rocks as he slowly approached the light. He heard a sound and waved his hand with a yell. Hands waved back and forth as he ran forward and saw the source of the sound. 

“Hey, you okay?” Lavendar eyes looked up as the woman trembled. 

“You… you look familiar,” she whispered and lips parted slightly. The dark sandy hair fell into her face as she looked up. The staff hit the rock beneath her as she pulled herself up. 

Sorey instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, let me get you some help.” 

A sad smile graced her lips as her head dropped slightly. “It’s alright. I knew this day would come,” her voice came as a whisper. 

“No!” Fear bit at Sorey for a moment. He had to do something but he couldn’t think of what. He just knew he couldn’t just leave her like that. “My home isn’t far and gramps can…” 

She shook her head as thin fingers wrapped around her staff and short gasps echoed. Her skin was pale, almost seeming to cling to her skin like a living skeleton. All Sorey could think about was that he had to save her somehow. He didn’t care who or what she was. He had to. Gramps would help her. He knew he would.

“Let me get you to my home,” Sorey began as the woman shook her head. 

“No, I’m already dead,” she whispered, a sad look in her eyes. “This was all I could do for my family to pay for the crimes committed.” 

“What are you talking about?” It was panic. And edge to his voice that caused it to crack as bony fingers grasped at his arm and then she turned her head. 

“Hellions… but how did they?” The woman whispered and nearly crumpled. “The seal should have kept them locked away,” her lips trembled as she took a step forward. 

“Hellions!” Sorey gave a quick jerk of his head around the area as he tried to make out something. He knew gramps told him something about hellions… if only he had actually listened. But there were so many more interesting things… 

But that really wasn’t going to help him now. 

Sorey felt his heart pound against his chest and he launched at the shadow only to be stopped by the staff against his stomach. The woman was fragile but in the moment she was strong. Sorey tried to protest, insist that he would fight too, but she moved. 

A yell left his lips though he couldn’t hear it past the pounding of his heart. The woman crumpled as claws dug into her skin. Sorey felt sick and the sight of someone dying ripped his heart into bits. 

“NO!” But Sorey was frozen in his spot and shook as he choked on his sobs. The woman’s body took on inhuman angles, claws ripped through her body, empty eyes wide open in death. Feet finally managed to move as the mangled, lifeless body was thrown down. He scrabbled at the ground and shook as he buried the ceremonial sword into the creature’s mouth. It blinked and swung at him. 

Pain wracked Sorey’s body as he hit a wall, unable to hear the crack until it was too late and the heavy door cracked open. Dust and debris fell upon his head and he coughed as the hellion jerked its head up. It paused for a moment as Sorey sliced at the creature. It just proved to make it angry. 

“Why isn’t it doing anything?” 

Fear, adrenaline, it made him move, urged him to attack without any thought as to how he was going to survive this. Fingers clenched around the ceremonial sword as Sorey brought in shallow breaths and then blinked as twisted sets of water slammed hard into the hellion. It gave a scream of frustration as it moved past Sorey. 

A name was on Sorey’s lips as he turned around and stared. This wasn’t one of the Seraphim from home, still following him after so many years, and he wasn’t quite sure if it was a Seraphim. But he saw the Seraphic Arts… 

Every part of it led to confusion that distracted him, trying to figure this mystery out like the puzzles of a ruin. Feet scuffled suddenly as soon as Sorey heard the clash, the hellion’s claws blocked by a long staff. One hand reached out and the water slammed hard into the creature’s body and slammed it into the wall where it lay unmoving and dissipated. 

“That was amazing!” 

The violet eyes glared towards him and stopped him in his tracks. Sorey opened his mouth to say more as the boy moved closer to him. The staff moved in an instant, held high enough to press against Sorey’s throat as he pushed him against the wall. Sorey half stumbled as he stared down at the other boy. 

What was his problem? He just wanted to ask some questions. 

“Who are you? How did you get here? Do you have any idea what you’ve done by breaking the seal?” 

Hands almost seemed to tremble as he pressed harder and Sorey struggled to breathe. Sure he had been afraid for his life before, but usually he could get himself out of it, or gramps would send someone to watch him. He didn’t know why he still needed someone to watch out for him even when he was this old. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the ruins better than anyone in Elysia. 

But now there was fear, and maybe the lack of oxygen was playing a part of it, but Sorey really wasn’t quite sure. 

“Mikleo. The damage had been done. You will get no answers by killing the boy, especially if he knows nothing,” a quiet voice echoed and then broke into a sound of distress as soon as he saw the maimed body of the woman. He shuddered and slowly Mikleo lowered his staff. 

“Uncle?” The staff dropped with a clatter and in an instant Mikleo was at the man’s side, eyes searching him. Sorey never thought badly about people but really, he had been just trying to kill him and now he displayed such concern. None of this made any sort of sense. The sign of concern was on his face for a moment before the man stood. 

“There is nothing we can do now but prepare for the worst.” 

“The worst?” Sorey looked between the pair confused. “What’s going on?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful reviews. They certainly made me happy.

The sudden change in his uncle was something Mikleo had never seen. Not in the numerous years he had lived with him. He didn’t know how long it had been. Here in Camlann time had no meaning. All that mattered was that he was alive and as long as they were it was their duty to keep the malevolence and Maotelus sealed within Camlann. 

But that was impossible now. 

The seal had been broken and there was nothing that could stop either, not unless they were to kill Maotelus. All because of this human boy. And yet Mikleo couldn’t stop glancing towards him. A part buried deep inside wondered about him, just as he wondered about the ruins that he had only ever seen the outside of. 

“You broke the seal,” Mikleo looked up as he heard his uncle’s familiar, worn voice. He didn’t turn as he stared at the destroyed shrine. Beams still lay upon the ground, the shrine ruins in itself. Once proud and beautiful the scorch marks patterned the area, bedrock crumbling, old pieces that had once been part of the shrine shattered. The pews were overturned, the altar in shambles. 

This was the only shrine for Maotelus that Mikleo had ever known. 

“Uh… seal?” Sorey put his hands up and waved them. “Really! I wasn’t trying to do anything… the door just opened when I hit it!” 

“How long? How long was it weakening? How long did you cling to life as the malevolence seeped through your power,” his voice cracked and he sank down to his knees. “And now it is gone with the last of your life.” 

“What do you mean about the seal?” 

“The seal that keeps Maotelus and the malevolence he creates here in Camlann,” Mikleo directed his eyes towards Sorey. It was obvious that his uncle wasn’t going to answer the other human’s question. Though a part of his mind questioned whether he truly didn’t know anything. The seal had been there for as long as he remembered. 

There had to be more to the other boy. It was possible that he had been sent. 

“Wait… Camlann?” Sorey’s voice gained in volume and Mikleo was too late to jerk away as the other boy grabbed his shoulders, green eyes bright in excitement. He was on his feet and Mikleo was instinctively reaching for his staff. “The Camlann in the Celestial record? And Maotelus? The Lord of the Seraphim? You mean he’s really here?” 

With each moment Sorey’s grip grew firmer, lightly shaking Mikleo’s shoulders in his excitement. “If that’s true then Camlann is from the Era of the Gods!” 

That was more than enough for Mikleo. He grabbed his staff and his hands clenched tightly around it as he slammed the wood full-force against the other boy. He gave a wounded look as he rubbed at his chest and groaned. 

“That really hurt…” 

“Then don’t touch me,” Mikleo snapped at him. 

There was no reason to welcome this stranger that he knew nothing about. The fact remained that he had been fighting a hellion and he had shattered the seal. All this time it had only been his uncle and him against the hellions produced by Maotelus’ malevolence. Any curiosity about the origin of Camlann and the story of what had happened to both the town and Maotelus had been long ago put to rest by his uncle’s unwillingness to answer. 

For years he had wanted to cling to the idea of the outside world but his uncle’s words echoed in his head for so long. And he knew the truth, just as he was certain that this boy had purposely broken the seal. He couldn’t be as simple as he appeared. He had to have known the entire truth. 

“Uh… okay?” Sorey scratched the back of his head and then he held his hands up in defense. “You’re not gonna try to choke me again, are you?” 

Mikleo sighed as he turned back towards his uncle’s back. Perhaps humans from the outside world were just this good at fooling people, even if it meant playing stupid. Finally Michael turned back around and his eyes focused on Sorey, as if he had only just heard the questions. 

“The Celestial Record paints a picture that is more fantasy than truth,” he spoke quietly and then lifted his head. “Who are you? How did you come to reach the seal, much less break its final bonds? It should have taken power, even with…” Michael’s voice drifted off to a barely perceptible whisper and Mikleo turned away from Sorey. 

“What? But the Celestial Record tells-“ 

“How do you know that it’s the entire truth?” 

“Well why would someone lie?” 

“Have you ever heard of embellishment?” Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Are all from the outside world this dense?” 

“Come on, why would someone embellish history, especially with all these places? This is our history!” 

“Have you ever seen them?”

“Uh…” Sorey stopped and blinked as he scratched his head. “Well Camlann is obviously a real place, and so is the malevolence and hellions!” He took a breath, about to continue the argument and then he blinked for a moment. “What do you mean the ‘outside world’? Is that like the world down below?” 

“The outside world is the world outside of Camlann and the seal, the place the seal was meant to keep Maotelus and his malevolence from.” 

“How could the Lord of Seraphim have malevolence?” 

“Like a human like you would understand.” 

“You’re a human too!” 

Mikleo exhaled slowly and took a breath as his hand tightened around his staff and a hand gripped his shoulder firmly. He was about to hit the other boy again but when he turned he was met by his uncle’s eyes. 

“Mikleo, that’s enough,” he tightened his grip slightly on his shoulder and looked past him. “You haven’t answered my question.” 

“Oh yeah!” Sorey flashed a broad grin and once again Mikleo wondered if the outside world trained those they sent out to act like idiots. It could be something to put them off their guard, convince them he was harmless. But it wasn’t going to work. 

“I’m Sorey. My hometown is on the other side of the ruins-“ 

“Elysia,” the word was said breathlessly and unbidden his uncle's fingers dug into Mikleo’s shoulder. Mikleo turned back towards his uncle as he shook his head. He knew that his uncle wasn’t going to answer any of the questions that lingered in his mind. 

 

The sky had been darkening more with each passing hour. Michael couldn’t feel the pressure that had once nearly suffocated him. One would think his quest had ended in success but removing Maotelus from Pendrago had only had dire consequences. He had made a choice in order to save the world once more. 

One would think he had been long over that when the pact with his Prime Lord had been fractured. But the pact had been made, a power unleashed that he had thought would be his own to bear. And now each day the failure weighed heavily on his mind. He had failed the people of Camlann, had failed to save Muse, and failed to save Mikleo. 

No, he had not failed to save him, he had placed this curse upon him himself. It was the path of a destroyer, much like those soldiers that had destroyed this haven. He had been gifted the arts of a seraphim with only one purpose and now that purpose needed to be fulfilled. With the seal broken he would send Mikleo away. Already he could feel the taint that seeped out. 

But the other boy was an unknown. 

Michael turned back towards Sorey, the boy sitting on the nearly shredded cot reading the book that rested in his lap. He was from Elysia, the realm of Zenrus. There was no reason for a village of Seraphim to take in a human child. But how else would he know of Elysia? It was the only answer. 

It had been many years since he had seen Lord Zenrus, before the arrival of Heldalf. 

A darkness seemed to linger in Michael’s mind as his mind lingered on the General that had first come to Camlann. The one that had angered Maotelus and left them to die. Deep in his mind Michael could still hear the pleas of the people. He had not sent them away at the risk of a bloodbath, one they had regardless. 

“Mikleo,” footsteps crunched the broken ground as he approached the boy. He was silent against the wall, sandy hair pressed against pale skin. As he looked at him he could see the spirit of Muse that seemed to shine out through the boy. “You will leave in the morning.” 

He looked up, not seeming surprised by the order. They both knew this day would come. Mikleo set his jaw, a shoulder against the remains of a pillar. 

“Take Sorey, return him.” 

“We can’t trust him.” 

“He comes from Elysia.” 

“Just because he says that doesn’t mean anything,” Mikleo glanced away as he stared down. “Even if he is he can’t do anything about the hellions. If we need to-“ 

“It’s an order,” Michael knew it wouldn’t be taken well. Mikleo didn’t trust, didn’t take anything on faith alone. It was only expected that his nephew would be like that. He had given the boy his own life lessons. But the way the world had become hadn’t been the one he had saved. Not when the innocents were murdered and Maotelus’ shrine desecrated. 

Shoulders rolled under a jacket as Mikleo glanced away and walked towards Sorey. 

He would die for his sins in an attempt to keep Maotelus here even as his malevolence spread. As long as Maotelus didn’t depart and was only a hellion survival was possible. 

 

“Get some sleep. We’re leaving first thing in the morning.” 

“Wha?” Sorey’s attention was reluctantly torn from the Celestial Record as he stared as the other boy. “Leaving?” 

“Uncle ordered me to escort you to Elysia.”

“You mean we’re going to go through all the ruins?” Sorey was on his feet in an instant as the happiness bubbled inside of him. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to go down. If he had fallen through the entire ruins then that meant that they had to go through the entire ruins to get back. They would be able to see everything and as bad as the circumstances they met under were Mikleo seemed to know about history. 

Maybe he could prove him wrong, or he could actually have someone to talk to about this… 

Well if Mikleo didn’t try to choke him again. 

Sorey fortunately managed to gain enough control of his excitement not to grab Mikleo again, remembering how badly it had ended the last time, but eyes still shone in excitement. 

“We’re not sight-seeing.” 

“But still… imagine how much information lay in there?” 

Sorey stopped for a moment as he watched the other boy. He was watching him, studying him, as if he was the thing that should be studied. The green eyes studied just as hard. Mikleo and Michael were the first humans he had ever seen. Gramps had always told him that normal humans couldn’t see Seraphim, but they were protecting Maotelus and the world from malevolence and hellions. 

A part of him always thought that all humans looked like him, solid unlike the other residents of Elysia. But it was weird. Mikleo looked more like a Seraphim except for his hair. That was a sandy color, slightly darker than Michael’s, but he was small and slight just like a lot of the Seraphim in Elysia, his skin pale and features delicate, eyes the unusual purple color. 

But there were things that were so unlike a Seraphim too, fragile hands that were well-calloused from the staff, blisters from the weapon that had broken and left his hands rough. 

“So….” There was something he just really wanted to know. “Gramps said humans can’t use Seraphic Arts.” 

Mikleo shot him a look and set his jaw. Shoulders tensed in response but really all the signs of discomfort bypassed Sorey. He didn’t want to push but he really wanted to know. He wanted to know everything he could. 

“I’m different,” Mikleo’s voice was quiet but clipped. “I can kill hellions,” his mouth clamped shut as he turned away. 

“But-“ 

Sorey snapped his mouth shut as he was shot a glare. The small bit of self-perseverance won over his curiosity, but just barely. He looked back and knew he would probably be fighting for his life if he kept asking questions, even though he really wanted to know. Maybe Michael would tell him something… 

He really hoped so. 

“I’m going to bed,” Mikleo said sharply as he crossed over and laid down on his own cot and reached up. The golden circlet was pulled off and he curled up slightly, his hand protectively over it. 

Sorey crossed his legs again. He really couldn’t sleep now, knowing they were going back to the ruins. He moved closer to the fire in order to see the words of his book better. He looked over at Michael before he sighed. 

The man looked just as unapproachable as his nephew.


	3. Chapter 3

The bright sun woke Sorey and he groaned and rolled over, not that that was helping any. Sharp rocks dug into his side and he brought his arms over his head. Briefly his mind lingered on how late in the morning it was before his sleep addled brain nudged at him. The first thing was that he was cold. Slowly, stiffly, he lifted his head and dragged his fingers through mussed hair. 

He smothered a yawn as he tried to remember where he was. It wasn’t Elysia; that was certain. His head was still foggy but it was slowly becoming clearer. And finally he remembered and eyes snapped open in an instant. 

How late was it? 

It couldn’t be too late since Sorey wouldn’t put it past Mikleo to use his staff to wake him up. 

Sorey lifted himself up and blinked into the light as he groaned and the soreness made itself known. However that was quickly forgotten as soon as he heard a sound in the otherwise silent town. Or at least he was pretty sure it was a town. He hadn’t really had a chance to take a good look around but now that he was able to he could see the remains of homes, a barely visible road that wound between the homes. Whatever had happened it almost felt evil, the air stagnate with a feeling of dread. 

The feeling sent a shudder down Sorey’s spine as he glanced around and hurried down the road. It wasn’t far before he was able to reach the edge of the town and froze. One hand lifted to his mouth as his stomach twisted. Animals died, but in Elysia death was almost unknown. But there were things there he had only read about. Gramps had told him humans buried their dead. 

Not that he ever knew what the point was. Seraphim never left behind a body. 

But before him were more large mounds, the hills were of rock and dirt like all of Camlann, and Sorey could guess at what it was for, especially with the large open pit. Rocks and dirt were wedged loose from a large mound by sticks fashioned into tools. The end of one hit a rock with a resounding clang and Mikleo wiped the sweat from his face. The dirt covered hand left streaks of it across pale skin before he pulled the rock loose and dumped it in the hole. 

Michael silently worked from the other side and when Sorey took a step forward he could see the bodies. If he had felt sick before it was nothing compared to the current sight. Bodies lay there, rotting away and covered with insects. Bone showed through and Sorey choked at the view. 

And there was the woman from the ruins, slowly covered by dirt like the others. In the light Sorey wished he couldn’t see the damage. See the way the creature had ripped her apart. Knees felt weak and Sorey felt the churning of his stomach and the familiar burn up his throat. Stones ripped at his pants as he hit the ground and gagged. The burning continued and his body shook, slick with sweat. 

Sorey trembled as he sank fully to the ground. His mouth tasted foul and every inch of his body felt disgusting. 

“Your first time seeing bodies up close?” 

Sorey shook as he looked up at Michael. He didn’t know how the man could seem so impassive as he stood there and leaned against his tool. The white shirt stuck to his chest, the belt and jacket discarded on the ground. Violet eyes watched Sorey closely. 

He wanted to forget the sight. He wanted it gone far from his mind where he wouldn’t have to witness the horror that was resting in the ground beneath him. 

“Wha?” His voice failed as he shook. “What happened here?” 

Michael turned his head away and stared back towards the horizon. More questions slid through Sorey’s mind and he wanted to know. Know what had caused this horror. But just as much he wanted to forget. Now he knew how much ignorance was a blessed thing. He had spent his life in ruins and the beautiful land of Elysia, his adventures filled with the land and the ruins that held so much history. 

It was pure, surrounded by Seraphim. The only bodies were the ones of the animals they ate. 

But this horror was something else. It was heavy and suffocated like death in a deep ocean.

“Hellions,” Mikleo shrugged his shoulders like it was just casual conversation as he went back to work. “There aren’t that many anymore, except for the ones that take on life because of Maotelus.” 

Michael’s hands closed around his own tool as he stared down. Sorey watched the man, ready to ask for more. Where did all the hellions come from? How did they get rid of them? What happened to Camlann? Finally he found his voice. 

“What happened to all the hellions?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sorey opened his mouth to argue the point. It was information that was eluding him and he wasn’t going to just let it go. There were just so many questions. The glare from Mikleo was the only reminder he needed to know that he probably wouldn’t make it back home if he kept it up. 

 

It was something they never talked about. The weight of reality pressed on Mikleo’s heart, each death a weight on his back. If they were just monsters it wouldn’t be a problem, but they were hellions. They left their corpses on the ground and in the early days the bodies of humans had piled high. 

Mikleo couldn’t even remember the days before he started to kill them; just doing his duty. He knew once upon a time he hadn’t. Once they had only swarmed and his uncle must had sealed himself away from them. 

But that was long ago and Mikleo had gotten used to the lives he had taken weighing on him. It felt like each soul was pulling at him, trying to drag him down into their hell. Maybe someday he would pay for it. 

The thoughts were shut out quickly as he pushed more dirt over the bodies. The rough wood left splinters that dug deep into his hands, making each movement painful. He knew that before they left he would have to submit to a dull knife cutting at his hands as his uncle dug the deep ones out. It wasn’t the worst thing, just another thing he disliked. Much worse had happened before. 

At least he hadn’t been poisoned by any of the hellions for quite a while. 

The silence was oppressing as Sorey’s questions seemed to completely disappear. It shouldn’t have been. He had spent his entire life here with just his uncle and the hellions. There had never been a reason to fill the silence, even when the nights grew late and they sat at the fire, aware that they were not safe, that he still had a full day’s work ahead of him and would for longer than he could imagine. 

The tools scraped against solid rock and the dirt piled up over the bodies, sealing them away. 

“Eat, and then you leave.” 

“I understand,” Mikleo glanced back over at Sorey and watched him for a moment. The idea of never having seen a body before was foreign to him. Days had passed when that was all he had seen. How many bodies had he buried now? He couldn’t remember.

Mikleo placed the tool down and wiped at the sweat on his face before fingers ran through his hair and he stared up at the malevolence tainted sky. He had to leave, stop Maotelus’ malevolence and to do that he would need to leave a trail of bodies in his wake. 

More souls to cling to him, their silenced screams ready to work their way into his mind, remind him of the atrocities he committed out of need. He had no choice in how his duty was completed and so laying them to rest and carrying their memory on in his soul was all he could do. His uncle had been there from the beginning, guiding his way. 

Slowly Mikleo lifted himself up and followed his uncle towards the fire. A glance back told him that Sorey was following. Each action was familiar as Michael sat down and scraped the gathered food into bowls. Mikleo stared down at it, the meager plants, barely perceptible meat from the animals that had become hellions. 

He scraped it from the old bowl and ate slowly. 

Mikleo could feel the eyes on him and he watched Sorey for a long moment, studying the way he ate. He wasn’t used to what they had, what they kept cooked and gathered. Mikleo didn’t say anything as his uncle grabbed his hand and pulled out what he could before he grabbed a knife and placed the tip in the small flame. 

The dull tip of the knife was hot as it dug into his skin. He could feel the pain from both the heat and the tip of the knife. The blood and age left it warn, rusted, and sharpened only with the use of a stone. Mikleo could feel the pain, the pale skin reddening as he dug into it. 

“Ouch,” Sorey looked at him but Mikleo wouldn’t lift his head up. This was something he was used to, the pain something familiar and unpleasant. It was easier for him with his uncle’s steady hand to do the work. It was better than watching his uncle do the work to himself 

“So, is that how you always do it?” 

“To get the deep splinters out,” eyes shut and Mikleo drew in a shallow breath as he gritted his jaw. His uncle always made finish any treatments needed as quickly as possible and this was no different. The splinters were worked out and his hands were washed, the familiar ragged cloth wrapped around them until the small amount of bleeding stopped. 

“Doesn’t look very sanitary.” 

“It isn’t,” bandaged hands cupped the bowl as he stared down into it. He had survived so far as had his uncle. In the early days infections and poisons had been as much an enemy as the hellions themselves. But now they had learned ways to avoid the worst.

Mikleo watched him, his mind focused on the boy. He still couldn’t come up with a conclusion that his mind would accept. He shouldn’t had been able to break the seal, and those of the outside world always wanted something more. They destroyed whatever they desired. He knew that much from his uncle. Cruelty was the way of the outside world. 

“Here,” Sorey flashed a grin as he dug into his pack and held out a small red item, the smooth item small in his hand. “It hurts, right?” 

“What is that?” It could be anything, and instinct told him not to trust the boy. He was a stranger, one he still knew nothing proven about. He knew why his uncle told him to bring him back, but he was putting a lot of trust into him. There was no telling what he was planning. 

“An apple gel. It’s got some medicine in it and really they taste pretty good,” eyes remained bright on Mikleo, the red item held out to him. He wanted to refuse it, this strange kindness. He felt his uncle’s eyes on him and Michael nodded his head. 

“It’s alright,” he said as he picked the knife up and began to work the deeper splinters out of his own hands. 

His own uncle had assured him it was fine, the one person he knew he could trust without question. Finally Mikleo’s shoulders sagged and he took the small item. It was sweet, so unlike he had ever tasted before. He sucked at it slightly, the item softening in his mouth. The juice had a strong taste but not unpleasant. Teeth sank in and a hand was brought to his mouth at the feeling of the soft item and the way it stuck to his teeth.

Mikleo bit down on it and finally swallowed it. He could feel the stickiness that clung to his teeth and he frowned in response. He knew Sorey was watching him, and when he looked he could see the broad grin on his face. Was he expecting something? He really didn’t know, but the item hit his empty stomach and eased the pain. He licked at the stickiness and finally worked it off. 

“Pretty good, huh?” 

Mikleo jerked his head away and crossed his arm. It was a kind thing which just left him confused, his mind desperate to understand why Sorey had done this. Slowly he placed his bowl down and then froze and blinked. Mikleo’s breath caught as he unwrapped his hands and blinked. 

It wasn’t normal, or at least what he was used to, but the pain was gone. The cuts were gone, the red skin pale again, and Mikleo easily closed his hands without any sort of pain. He couldn’t help but stare at them. No one would have even known what had happened. Mikleo’s lips parted and finally blinked. 

Sorey’s grin broadened. “I always keep some with me since I broke my leg in the ruins,” he turned and looked towards Mikleo as he pulled another out of his pocket and held it out to Michael. “Well gramps makes me, and they’re pretty good if you’re really hungry.” 

“Why?” 

“Huh?” 

“Why would someone from the outside world help anyone?”

“I couldn’t just let you hurt,” Sorey shrugged his shoulders and the very idea just left Mikleo confused. He couldn’t figure it out with what he knew. Those of the outside world couldn’t be trusted. Their focus was themselves, their own greed and power, so what was Sorey after? He was already going to take him back home. What did he get out of this? 

“And why not? You don’t know me. It’s foolish to make someone stronger when you don’t know what they’re going to do. I could easily turn on you.” 

“I don’t think you’re really a bad guy so why shouldn’t I help you? Besides, you gave me breakfast and are taking me home. I don’t think a bad guy would do that.” 

Mikleo tensed up beside him and fingertips dug against his bowl. This was different than everything his uncle had ever taught him, everything he had ever learned. If he wasn’t after something then he was just stupid. Kindness like this just didn’t exist. 

“Think of it what you will,” Mikleo forced another bite of his food. It took on an almost sour taste after the unnatural sweetness of the gel. However it worked well to fill his empty stomach even more. Bites were taken in silence and Sorey tried to periodically break it. The interruption only made Mikleo eat quicker before he stood and picked up his staff. 

“Mikleo,” eyes blinked as he turned his head, a hand on the small of his back. Mikleo opened his mouth to say something but then fell silent as the sorrow that always came from his uncle seemed to overwhelm him. One hand reached out and touched Michael’s arm as the man brushed aside Mikleo’s unkempt hair and pressed his lips against the gem of the circlet. 

It wasn’t often that his uncle was like this, but when he was Mikleo wanted to cling to the man. Dread always seemed to choke him during these moments, especially as Michael reached around and pulled his head against his chest. 

“Go out and control what malevolence you can. Maotelus will leave his shrine soon enough. You know what you must do.” 

“I’ll-“ 

“No, you won’t come back here,” Michael whispered, his voice quiet against Mikleo’s hair before he reached down and Mikleo lifted his head up. He didn’t want to see that sadness. The dread curdled his stomach and he wanted to yank his gaze away. He didn’t want his uncle to be right. He didn’t want any of this to be his duty. He didn’t want to murder Maotelus, didn’t want to step foot outside of Camlann. All that waited for him out there was a bloody path. His footsteps would be traced by the bodies that fell. 

If there was any time for a Shepherd it was now, but that thought stopped as soon as it started. They were no magic savior like the legends said. They only brought more pain. He would be the same. In the outside world the malevolence would corrupt humans. 

How many more graves would he dig? How many souls would haunt him by the time he was done? Mikleo didn’t have an answer for it. All he knew was that he couldn’t turn back now. Mikleo gave a choked sound as he clung to his uncle’s dirty jacket. 

“Come with.” 

“You know that is an impossibility.” 

He knew, but still Mikleo’s hands clenched tighter in the fabric. He couldn’t just leave his uncle, knowing the path he needed to walk. Finally he forced himself to let go and he took a shallow breath. 

Michael held out a pack before he gripped Mikleo’s shoulder firmly. “Go and fight. It’s only a matter of time before Maotelus seeks you out.” 

“I understand,” Mikleo lifted his head and forced himself not to reach out and grasp his uncle’s hand. If he had to he would disobey. This couldn’t be a goodbye, not when this was all he had to cling on to. 

 

The shutting of the door was a resounding thud, one replicated within Michael’s heart. He knew that Mikleo would succeed. He was his mother’s son and strength lived in his blood. She had always been stronger than he had been. Sometimes Michael wondered if the world would had been in better hands had she been the Shepherd. Perhaps none of this would had happened. 

No one else would had paid for his crimes as they had his entire life. It had cost Muse his life, and it still remained to be seen what the final cost Mikleo would pay would be. He had wanted it to be him but the curse had fallen on the shoulders of the innocent child. No amount of begging would save him from his terrible fate. 

Fate. 

That was what had befallen them all. 

When had it begun? When he became the Shepherd and Lailah’s vessel deep in the catacombs beneath Ladylake? Or after, when he took Maotelus? Or when Heldalf came? Maybe it was even the day he was born, his existence already cursed. 

Slowly Michael stepped towards a ruined home. Beneath his feet the ground shook and he turned his head up towards the sky. 

“Not yet. I cannot let you leave this place yet, even if I cannot stop you. Certainly you do not want fate to arrive so soon, old friend.” Michael lowered his head as he waited. The earth calmed for a moment. It would not remain calm, not when Maotelus would soon be clawing to escape. He could now, but he was content to bide his time for the moment. 

Slowly Michael took a breath as he stepped into the home. Papers still lay strewn around and those were what he needed now. The ink flowed with each word he wrote upon it. He knew that Mikleo would return and when that day came he would know the truth, even if he could not tell him. Michael’s hand shook slightly as each precise word was placed elegantly upon the papers. He let his mind remember and bring him to a place far away, a time described in the words. 

Michael didn’t know how long he sat but finally he sealed the letter with wax and the crest of Maotelus stared up at him, almost mocking. It had been there for so long, defined his life, but no more. Now he would face his fate. 

Slowly Michael lifted himself up shakily and opened a chest. Inside was that which he had not touched for years. It still rested, unblemished, even after the years. Fingers ran over the polished wood, smooth as only a weapon created under the utmost care could be. Carefully he restrung the bow and carefully placed the elegant weapon and intricate quiver upon the desk. The quiver was filled as it had always been. 

It still felt so familiar beneath his fingers after so many long years. But he wasn’t to lift it again. No, this wasn’t for him. And silently Michael placed the letter on top of the weapon. 

“The end is coming old friend.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much everyone for the comments and kudos, they mean a lot to me. I must apologize for any choppiness with the division of chapters. I'm afraid I'm still learning as I usually do not post chaptered stories and so have never actually divided them before.
> 
> Once again thank you for the lovely comments and kudos.

“Hey, you okay?”

There was no need to say it, and certainly nothing he’d say to Sorey. He had known before that once Maotelus was loose this quest was something that could very well take his life. He wanted to go back to Camlann once it was done, if Camlann even still stood. 

If he still stood. 

But this quest was unavoidable. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to go or that he didn’t want any part in this. There was no choice for him. It wasn’t a quick trip of escorting Sorey but instead Mikleo stood on the doorsteps of fate. From the second his uncle had said those words, had kissed his circlet like that and held him, he had known. 

Even if he was able to return the chances of seeing his uncle again were so slim. He was the only one that had the power to do anything and as more of Maotelus’ taint seeped through more hellions would appear. His uncle had no defense against them, much less Maotelus. 

The thought choked him and Mikleo closed his hand tightly around his staff and dropped his head. His hair fell around his face, the messy disarray long enough to cover his cheeks and hide his eyes. He had left him there, defenseless, with only one fate in store. He wouldn’t hide any longer and he would be slaughtered. His life would be the price to slow Maotelus down. 

Mikleo clenched his teeth, determined not to cry for his uncle where a stranger could see. 

“Hey Mikleo!” 

Mikleo looked up with a gasp and then he firmly grabbed the wrist attached to the hand that gripped his shoulder firmly, eyes shining down in concern. Mikleo opened his mouth and his hand tightened more around the wrist before he pushed Sorey back. 

“Didn’t we talk about the touching?” 

“Well you looked upset when you were talking to your uncle.” Sorey frowned slightly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t answer me.” 

“I’m fine and if you have time to worry you should be more focused on keeping an eye out. Didn’t you learn the first time that it isn’t safe? Especially now that Maotelus’ malevolence is spreading,” Mikleo spat at him. It was easier to get annoyed, yell at Sorey. Then he couldn’t think about what he had abandoned his uncle to. “I’m not your problem unless I can’t watch your back. If I endanger you in a battle then I’m a problem. The same goes for you.” 

“Even then you wouldn’t be a problem,” Sorey reached out but then stopped short of touching Mikleo’s shoulder again. “I guess… I just wanted to say it’s okay to be upset. I don’t know what it’d be like to leave Elysia away for good and say goodbye to gramps and everyone else in Elysia.” Sorey gave a sad smile. “I think I’d be sad if I was going to be gone for a long time and not be able to see them.

There he went, being kind to him again. It made no sense that he would be. He could give him nothing, unless he thought this was some grand adventure like in the Celestial Record. Maybe he was hoping to be with him and in case he survived Sorey could claim himself as some great hero. 

But even that didn’t make sense. He would be more likely to die than to become a hero. The stakes were just too high for this to be about fame. 

“I’m fine,” it was barely a whisper but Mikleo didn’t trust any more than that. It was an act, one he had to hold up until he parted ways with Sorey. 

“Hey, why don’t you spend the night in Elysia? You let me spend the night and fed me,” Sorey’s grin grew as he walked beside Mikleo. “You can get rest and some good meals and wash up. You’re probably going to need supplies too if you’re going on. I’ve got plenty of gels you can have back at home. I don’t need that many and you looked like you could use them…” Sorey trailed off. 

_Why? Why is someone from the outside world showing such kindness? Uncle, you said they were selfish, controlled by their desires and greed. That they were always after something. So why can’t I figure out what Sorey wants from me? What does he hope to gain?_

“We can probably get you some fresh clothes too,” Sorey looked up for a moment. “Man, that sounds good to me. A bath and some fresh clothes and prickleboar stew for dinner and a nice soft bed. I wonder if we have any meat left over. If not I guess we can hunt some,” he turned and tilted his head slightly. “Well even if we do we can still hunt and make jerky. You’ve gotta have something for your trip, right?” 

“What?” Mikleo’s head jerked up, his voice sharp as he stared at Sorey. “I never said I was staying! I’m just escorting you back home and then moving on!” 

“But-“ 

“No,” Mikleo shook his head. 

“Why not? Come on, I can’t really let you go off without anything.” 

“I am prepared.” 

“But-“ 

Mikleo cut Sorey off again but he knew it wasn’t over. The way Sorey was rambling, he had a feeling that no would not be an answer Sorey would accept. Once they got there he could just leave. Then he wouldn’t even have to give him an answer. 

As far as Mikleo was concerned the conversation was over, and with no further argument from Sorey he could take it easy. Bad move. He shouldn’t have taken it easy at all. The ruins were too quiet and as Mikleo lifted his head and turned a sound of exasperation escaped. Fingers dug into his hair before he looked up again. Yes, the spot where Sorey had just been was indeed empty. There was no argument because Sorey wasn’t even there. 

Mikleo rested his forehead on the rough wood of his staff and took in a slow breath. He couldn’t had gotten far in the time he hadn’t been paying any attention. And fortunately he hadn’t. 

“Hey Mikleo!” Sorey waved his hands as Mikleo dragged over. He was leaned against a wall and his fingers traced over the etchings traced into it. “You can use Seraphic Artes, right? Can you use anything else but water?” 

“I- Yes,” Mikleo sputtered as he stared at Sorey. What was the boy getting at? 

“Well if we had light we could get to see this. I bet it could tell us a whole lot,” Sorey reached over his head and his fingers traced along it. 

“I can’t use them consciously! It’s not like I’ve actually been trained in them. It just happens when I pull on the power to kill the hellions.” He couldn’t believe he was explaining this all to Sorey. Maybe because he needed to know. He needed to understand that he really had no command over them. They were only there to kill the hellions. If it came down to it there was no promise he could protect anyone. 

Mikleo sighed as he glanced around. Enough natural light was given to be able to see the area but not really make out any details. And though he hated it a part of him wanted to see it. He wanted to see the history his uncle denounced so angrily. It wouldn’t answer all his questions like how Maotelus had become a hellion, how so many had become hellions… 

And those he killed. Not all were innocent townspeople. Amongst them were so many soldiers clad in armor. He knew so little but the ruins wouldn’t answer his questions. They were too recent. But still there were secrets that the ruins held tight, secrets that were waiting to be unraveled. 

If the Celestial Record that so disgusted his uncle wasn’t the real truth then the ruins would be able to impart their knowledge. Mikleo knew he shouldn’t stop, shouldn’t waste this time with Maotelus in Camlann, maybe ready to escape his open cage or he could already had left in the time they had been in these ruins. 

But maybe the ruins could give him something. 

“Sorey, grab the torch from the wall,” Mikleo motioned to the old torch, well rusted and dried up of the oil that kept it lit. 

“They’re not going to stay lit.” 

And there it was, a challenge, a dare that he couldn’t turn down. Admitting defeat meant admitting that the other boy was better than him, smarter than him. He couldn’t have that. Mikleo dumped his bag on the ground and worked open one of the old containers. He stuffed the dirty bandages in the jar and pulled it out. The thick paste dripped from the rags as Mikleo wrapped it tightly around the tip of the torch. Violet eyes lit up in excitement as the familiar stones were pulled out. 

“Hold the torch right by it.” 

“Sure,” Sorey shrugged his shoulders as he watched Mikleo. The stones clattered together until the spark caught the wet rag and Mikleo shot a superior look before his mind caught up to him. He shouldn’t be wasting his time like this, trying to show up Sorey. Just trying to prove he was better was nothing short of juvenile when there was so much at stake. 

“No way!” 

But it was too late for that. 

“This might even come from the Era of the Gods,” Sorey pointed up towards the unnatural crystal that trailed down through the mural and Mikleo frowned. Yes, it didn’t seem man-made but it was one mural. 

“This is one mural.” 

“The ruins had to have been here then. There’s no way humans could replicate this and seraphic powered artifacts didn’t exist during the Age of Disappearance. It had to have been done during that time.” 

“How do you know that? Even if according to history they disappeared during the Age of Disappearance we both know they didn’t. Humans just couldn’t see them.” 

“Well if humans can’t see them they wouldn’t be using their power for relics in ruins.” 

“Is it so beyond reason that Seraphim would not had continued on their own?” 

“Build a shrine for themselves?” Sorey snorted in disbelief. 

“Or one meant to make people think something besides the truth.” 

“You’re talking about a fake? Why would anyone do that? Really sounds like a lot of work.” 

Mikleo rolled his eyes in response. “If things like this exist it gives the outside world a reason to believe even though they can’t see the Seraphim.” 

“These ruins are between Camlann and Elysia. What humans are going to see it?” 

“Camlann wasn’t always just home to my uncle and me. It used to be a city.” 

“So you think Seraphim just wanted to make people remember. Come on Mikleo, if this was for the people of Camlann don’t you think it’d be a waste? Camlann has a shrine to Maotelus!” 

“I don’t see you coming up with plausible theories.” 

“It’s from the Era of the Gods! How much more plausible can you get!” 

“And where’s your proof of it?” 

“Where’s yours that it wasn’t?” 

Mikleo took in a shallow breath as he tried to focus on something, anything to keep moving. This was juvenile, to be baited into an argument by someone who obviously just jumped to the first conclusion without bothering to think past it. He sighed slightly as he glanced away and stepped towards the steps before he stopped. Mikleo’s vision blurred slightly as he swung a hand out to steady himself. His legs felt weak as his head dropped. That was just making it worse, his head as light as if he hadn’t eaten for days. 

He half stumbled as he drew in a breath. 

He had noticed the change, the lightening of crushing pressure against his chest, the tingling of his fingers, and now he was light-headed. Maybe he had gone too long without water but that wasn’t normal. He knew how long he could go and even with no sense of time he had been sure they hadn’t been down in the ruins that long. 

Mikleo forced his feet forward and he nearly tripped over one of the steps. His knees buckled before he picked himself up. 

What was wrong with him? Why did he feel so exhausted? Why couldn’t he see straight? They were more questions that were suddenly a great deal more important than what era these ruins were built in. Fingers pressed against the cool stone and he heard Sorey but his voice sounded distant, everything muddy before it cleared enough that he was able to focus. Mikleo took gasps but each one only seemed to make his head spin more and his fingers tingle. Even the wood of the staff felt distant, blocked by the tiny pricks in his hands. 

“Mikleo?” Sorey had reached out and grabbed his arm and Mikleo shot him a glare. 

“Didn’t we talk about touching?” He had to regain control of his body somehow. He couldn’t let Sorey see him weakened like this. It was too dangerous. The end of the staff hit the ground as Mikleo lifted himself up again. He tried to force his breathing to slow even as his lungs burned, demanding more. 

The crushing pressure of his chest was too light, slowly dissipating, and his body nearly recoiled in response to it. It was too much and he tried to force his breathing almost dreadfully slow in his mind. He took slow shallows breaths, desperate to take in as little air as possible. 

 

“Mikleo?” He didn’t know the boy really all that well but Sorey would be blind not to see how sick he looked. The Seraphim back home rarely ever got sick but Mikleo really didn’t look well. He really wanted to help but if there was anything he had learned it was that Mikleo wouldn’t let him. 

_You okay?_

The question was on the tip of Sorey’s tongue but he didn’t voice it. It was hard not to. But his sympathy had already been dismissed harshly. If he kept trying maybe Mikleo would accept it. He tried to reach out to steady him but stopped just short of touching the filthy fabric. 

And so Sorey clamped his mouth shut. It was probably the hardest thing to do but it was better than the violence that tended to follow. 

“This way.” 

His voice was steady, as if nothing was wrong. Maybe he was imagining it. Not that he was an expert on all things human. Sorey scratched the back of his head as he looked around and eyes lit up again. He bounded up the steps and stopped short of the statue. 

“Sorey! Don’t run ahead. It’s my job to get you safely back home,” Mikleo nearly growled as he hurried after Sorey. He skid across the ground and slipped on the gravel in his rush. Sorey turned back at the sound and caught the wince as Mikleo rubbed at his ass and wiped the gravel from his hands and then jerked his head up. Lips parted and Sorey saw him take a deep breath and relaxed slightly. A hand was on his staff but too late. It moved fast, a thing of shadow dropped down and claws dug in and ripped the jacket. 

It was just like the woman. The claws were different but it was an enemy. Sorey knew he couldn’t let Mikleo be hurt. No one deserved to be hurt. The ceremonial sword dug through the creature and Sorey blinked as the creature turned back towards him. Gold eyes glimmered as it let loose a roar and Sorey braced his feet as he tried to yank the sword from the creature’s body. He managed a nervous smile as he tried to pull again. 

Something seemed to explode and Sorey gave a yelp as the sword came loose. He hit the ground and blinked as the monster dissipated. He felt sick all over again as eyes widened in response. His breath caught in his throat and he had to move. He felt cold, torn, and the pain that tore through him was immense. 

Before Sorey could stop himself he tore towards the creature that had been there a moment ago. His voice cracked as the name came out, breaking in desperation. 

“Taccio!” Hands clenched into the fabric as shoulders shook and Sorey’s lips parted. “Why? Why did you-“ He couldn’t find words and his heart pounded, shredded at what he had just seen. Taccio’s skin was growing cooler and Sorey dug his face into the fabric of his clothing. 

“Why?” 

A tear streaked face turned back around as Mikleo’s fingers trembled around his staff. He wouldn’t look up, maybe couldn’t look Sorey in the face. In the face of pain Sorey’s heart clenched more and he couldn’t stop himself. He launched at Mikleo and dug his fingers into his shoulders. There was no quick shove away as he was expected, no callous response not to touch him. 

Instead a single wet line trailed down his cheek and fell from his chin. It darkened a spot on his jacket and fingers trembled as lips parted. “I’m sorry,” lips parted in a whisper of those two words. He didn’t try to defend himself and inside Sorey the lump grow bigger as he turned away from Mikleo as the body of the seraph began to fade away from the ground. 

Why? Why had he killed Taccio? Sure, he wasn’t him when he attacked but he had seen it. Why did anyone have to die? He had to know why and the only person who could tell him wouldn’t. 

“Why Mikleo!” 

There was still no answer. Maybe there never would be but Sorey couldn’t accept that. He had to know why. No amount of yelling was going to get him anywhere as Mikleo walked past him and nearly stumbled across the ground. His breathing was labored and he leaned heavily on his staff. Feet moved slowly across the ground as light shown down. 

“Mikleo!” 

Not a word was said as he took a step into the light of Elysia. He stumbled again but caught himself before his body shook. Lips parted in gasps and without warning his body stopped and slammed against the ground. The sound was soft against the grass, even as the small twigs audibly cracked beneath his weight. 

For a moment horror slammed through Sorey and he quickly forgot himself. 

“Mikleo!” 

The woman, Taccio, two had died in front of him and the horror clenched at his heart. “Mikleo!” 

Even after what he had done he just couldn’t. A hand shook Mikleo’s shoulder and Sorey stared down at him. Was he gone? Just like that woman and Taccio? “Mikleo!” 

He was still warm but no amount of shaking seemed to be able to wake him even as his breaths came slower, barely even audible. 

 

He was reluctant to wake. The blanket and fire created a warmth that he had never known. Sleep did not addle his mind for long, not when he managed to remember. A hellion that turned into the body of a Seraph, the questions that he wouldn’t answer, and then everything blurred. Everything had been muddy, unable to even make out images or sounds, and then nothing. 

The bed underneath his back was soft and he touched it. The fabric was clean and it felt good on the skin that was bared.

Mikleo quickly reached down and frantically searched for his one treasured possession. Fingers skittered on the ground and he sat up. That was a mistake. His head spun and he was forced to lay down as he became aware of the sweat. But still it was gone. It couldn’t be gone. The panic clenched him more than anything he had ever felt and Mikleo tried to sit up again. Eyes widened in fear before his stomach clenched and he hit the bed again. He gagged and something was in his mouth. 

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get the dreaded substance out of his mouth. He coughed and his lungs protested as he choked on the burning that dripped down until a firm hand turned him over. Mikleo continued to cough and wretch, even after the foul smell substance hit the bed beneath him. He gasped once again and his head spun. His lungs hurt, like they couldn’t get enough air. 

Mikleo gasped aloud as his lips parted and a hand titled his head back almost gently. It held it still as water was dribbled into his mouth. Or at least he thought it was water. It was too clean without the taste that he had grown so used to. He took what he had to, enough to quench the thirst that ravished his mouth and throat. Mikleo coughed again as his body crumbled, the foul substance pressed into his hair and his face. 

It burned worse than the knife he was so used to. 

It was a blessing when he was pushed back and a cold wet cloth wiped at his face. 

“Michael, you fool. You knew a pact with him would never be a blessing,” The voice was gravely, and now that Mikleo could manage to breathe he could pick up a strange scent, an unfamiliar taint mixed with smoke. 

“Whe-“ 

“You will only get worse the longer you remain here,” Mikleo forced his eyes to open and they seemed to blur before he could focus on the elderly man, the tops of his stilts visible.

“How do you know my uncle?” 

Mikleo gasped again as if he couldn’t breathe. He trembled beneath the blanket before eyes caught the glint of gold beside the fire. Eyes widened and he sat up quickly and then the dizziness hit. But he couldn’t be brought down. A hand reached out desperately for the circlet beside the fire as if it were as important as the air he breathed. It didn’t matter that it was too far away. He had to have it. 

Mikleo lost his balance as he reached for it and slid off the edge of the bed, hitting the wooden floor hard. It shocked pain through his already sore body and despite the dizziness that told him to stop he stood, stumbled, and slowly made it to the fire. 

“Muse,” the elderly man smoked his pipe. He exhaled the smoke slowly as Mikleo reached the circlet. He pulled it close and held his most treasured possession close. Mikleo trembled, barely comprehending the word as he finally looked up past the fire. Green eyes met him and Mikleo once again sank to the ground. 

He didn’t feel he had the strength to say anything as Sorey sat there cross-legged across from him. “What’s wrong with him gramps?” 

Why were they kind to him? Who was this stranger and how did he know his uncle? What could they possibly want from him? If this was because of what he had done, what he had to do, then it was better for it to be done with. 

Slowly Zenrus inhaled from his pipe.

“Michael made a pact with Maotelus and you were given the power of the pact,” Zenrus exhaled slowly as he watched Mikleo for a moment. He could feel the eyes on him, studying him, and it sent a chill up his spine. He had felt such a thing before. Long ago after the first hellion fell dead. He could still remember his uncle’s comforting hand on his shoulder as he stood before the hellion that blanketed all of Camlann with malevolence. 

Maotelus had not moved at first, only watched him with slit eyes and Mikleo had jerked back against his uncle as the hellion roared. It shook the earth and his uncle wrapped a protective arm around his chest as he reached and a hand rested upon Maotelus’ thick skin. It had been that moment that he had known. He was the one that needed to free Maotelus, free all of them. 

He had wanted to flee at that very moment, even if it was into the claws of the hellions. That way he wouldn’t have to kill anyone else. But he knew, knew the creature before him was in pain. He couldn’t leave him to suffer. 

He dug his first grave.

Eyes watched him closely as Mikleo pushed himself up slightly, even as his body shook and his own head threatened to drag him down once again. He didn’t want to answer this man who was laying his secrets bare. Finally he slowly nodded his head. 

“Michael, idiot,” Zenrus’ voice took on a firmer tone as Sorey jerked his head up. “This curse was bestowed on you by his mistake, the power that is beyond a human. Yet are a human without a domain of his own. You lived in his domain, flourished in it. A domain free of malevolence is not something your body is accustomed to. It would as soon destroy you as Maotelus’ domain would destroy us.” 

“I’ll leave as soon as I can.” He didn’t need to hear it. He didn’t want to listen to this man that knew his secrets. He spoke as if he understood the choices his uncle had to make. This was the only way to stop Maotelus and Mikleo had accepted his fate. 

“You can’t go on your own!” 

Zenrus turned with a frown as Mikleo turned his head to Sorey. Nothing he ever did made any sense to him. Humans of the outside world weren’t like this. “Why should it matter?” 

Mikleo almost missed the words, words he didn’t believe would come from the outside world that his uncle told him about. “You were crying. You never knew him and you were still crying for him.” 

Pity. 

Maybe Sorey was different than the rest of the outside world, but pity was not something he needed. It didn’t fix anything. Mikleo glanced away, his eyes locked towards the flames as he held the circlet tightly. He still could barely stay sitting up as his head spun. He needed to get far away from this place. Though at this point he didn’t know if it was to stop this or to leave behind the boy who confused him. 

Could his uncle be wrong about the outside world? 

No. He knew it. He knew what the outside world was like. 

“Sorey, start a bath.” 

“Uh… sure…” He stood up as he shot a glance back towards Mikleo. Slowly Mikleo sat up as he stared down at the floor beneath his feet as his knees pulled against his chest. Being alone with Zenrus weighed on him and Mikleo dropped his head. He rested his head against his knees, his head between them. His stomach lurched again as fingertips dug into the legs of his pants.

“Do you know the fate of your home?” 

“There was a massacre and Maotelus was corrupted. His malevolence overtook the town, the seal was created to keep the malevolence and Maotelus trapped.” 

He already knew. He knew about him and what he had needed to do. There was nothing he could hide. Slowly Mikleo lifted his head up as he watched the old Seraph. He was so different than Maotelus, the presence he had grown so used to through the years. He was too light, his power one that lacked darkness. He belonged in the darkness that blanketed Camlann like a fog. As Zenrus had said he was not fit for this pure place. 

But why did they help him? Why didn’t they send him away? 

“The malevolence has trespassed into my domain. It seeps from Camlann even now. All your precautions were for naught.” 

“My uncle sacrificed his future, my mother sacrificed her life, and I’m prepared to do the same thing.” Mikleo stood quickly before he staggered slightly and brought his hand up to his head. Short breaths escaped as he tried to get the dizziness under control. Slowly he sat down once more. “I left Camlann to kill Maotelus. Don’t think you know anything about what happened!” 

Mikleo jerked his head away and let his forehead drop against his knees once again.

“What you have done was to protect. It is the only way that you are still free of malevolence. But it could had been avoided. If Michael had thought, if he had taken into account what Maotelus was… He should have known that an innocent would be harmed.” 

“He did what he had to!” Teeth clenched as Mikleo looked up. Zenrus seemed unfazed under the bushy eyebrows even as Mikleo glared. Violet eyes lit up in anger as his hand clenched tighter on his pant leg. He never held any resentment towards his uncle. He had done what had been needed to, raised him to the best of his ability. 

He had killed but it wasn’t his fault. No, he guided him every step of the way, held him when the nightmares had become too much, buried the bodies alongside him. His nameless mother had sacrificed herself in order to keep the world safe. She had done it selflessly for the outside world. A place that would never care what had been done for their sake as they lined their pockets and embraced their power and war. 

“Do you plan to destroy Maotelus?” 

“Yes, even if it costs me my life.” He would do it because it was the least he could do. His mother and uncle had sacrificed so much. His uncle hadn’t done wrong. He was a good man whatever the Seraph may say. “I’ll leave immediately.” 

Mikleo stood up and tried to grab at the distant wall. He stumbled slightly and leaned against it as he gasped for breath. He had to leave this place to get away from those he couldn’t trust for his own safety, his own health. 

“Stay a night. Have a meal and regain your strength to prepare for your journey.” Zenrus looked up towards him before a gentle smile graced his features. “Sorey would hardly forgive us if we turned away one who needed aid.” 

_Sorey, why? Why do you want to help me? Why are you so different than the truth I’ve heard?_

Slowly Mikleo nodded as he clutched the circlet to his chest and eyes searched the area for his staff. His mouth felt dry at the lack of it. Fingers curled slightly against the wall as he took slow steps from the hut. The steps proved to be too much as his stomach lurched once again. Mikleo tried to grab the wall as his knees hit something soft. 

_Soft?_

A hand reached out and touched surface beneath him. Fingers ghosted over it as he stared at it. It smelled strange in a way he couldn’t place. His fingers curled around it as he let his head lower. It tickled his skin, cool to the touch and slightly damp. How could there be so much water? So much life? 

Mikleo could feel the Seraphim that had gathered, watching him with only what could be apprehension. They didn’t trust him but the feeling was mutual. Hands clenched as he pushed himself up and his hand felt empty at the lack of rough wood. His fingers twitched at it as he pushed himself up. 

“Mikleo!” 

Eyes jerked back towards the now familiar voice. Sorey’s arrival caused as much apprehension. He didn’t like something he couldn’t understand and Sorey was exactly that.

“Uh… are you okay?” 

“Fine,” feet were placed under him once more as one uncertain step was taken. An arm went around his waist and instinctively he jerked away from the touch. He pulled back as far as the arm would allow and tried to wrest from it. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to walk if you leaned on me?” 

“And why would I do that?” He didn’t want Sorey to touch him. Strength kept him alive and he had already slipped up. Sorey had already seen him cry for the fallen Seraph. He had seen the way each death clung to him, ate away at his soul. Burying the dead was all he could do after he freed them the only way he could. 

Mikleo tried to jerk away again but the arm was firm. Sorey pulled him against his shoulder, something steady to lean on as he walked him into the house. “You okay with getting undressed?” Sorey frowned as he scratched the back of his head even as the jacket was dumped onto the floor. Mikleo eyed the tub for a moment before he glanced back. 

“Isn’t it a waste to use that much? Won’t you run out?” 

“Why would we?” 

“It’s hard to get.” 

“It is?” Sorey frowned for a moment as Mikleo pulled the rest of the ragged clothing off. Worn boots hit the ground, red blisters were cracked open, skin rough from callouses. Tenderly Mikleo stepped into the warm water and winced as he sank into it. He tried to jerk away as a bucket was grabbed and Sorey ran his fingers through his hair as he wet it. 

 

“It’s not much but these will probably fit,” Sorey managed a smile as he held over the clothes. Fingers touched the fabric almost warily before he stripped off his own clothing and pulled on those handed to him. Fingers traced over it, touched the white undershirt before they slid down the long black shirt and trailed across the belt knotted around his waist. 

Sorey dropped a pair of boots beside him. Hands touched the smooth leather before he pulled them on. Mikleo blinked as he stood up and looked at Sorey. “Why?” 

“It’s the right thing to do,” Sorey shrugged his shoulders as Mikleo picked up the scissors.and sandy hair fell down as Mikleo worked on it. A hesitant hand placed them down, the longer strands in hand as he brushed his hair slightly to cover the circlet. Everything was stroked gently as he stared down in wonder. 

“They okay?” 

“Yes,” Mikleo nodded slightly as he stood up. A hand moved to the wall once again and Sorey was on his feet in an instant. An arm was around Mikleo’s waist again as he tried to steady him. 

“Guess it makes you really sick.” 

“That is what he claimed,” Mikleo glanced away briefly as he sat next to the fire. All Sorey could feel was sorry for him. Eyes flickered towards the floor as he let himself sink to the floor before the fire.

Sorey had been confused by Mikleo before but it was nothing compared to now. He wanted to be angry at the death of Taccio. He wanted to blame Mikleo for his actions but he had seen the tear. No one cried for no reason at all. Confusion twisted beside the emptiness that Taccio’s death left. They could had escaped, right? 

Were there other choices? 

The answer was strictly no and seeing the body of the Seraph realization dawned all too quickly. The mass graves, the absence of hellions, and Sorey felt sick again. Had Mikleo done it all? 

Sorey shook his head as he watched him. 

He had eaten his meal in silence. He picked at small pieces as if he could only eat as much as he had to. Only a small amount of water was drank as if he was afraid it would run out. Sorey shoveled the food into his mouth as Mikleo glanced at his own.

Sorey collapsed on the floor beside him and arms stretched before he smothered a yawn. “I’m beat! You want the bed?” 

“I’ll be fine with the floor.” 

Sorey frowned as he watched Mikleo for a moment and tilted his head slightly. He really should insist that Mikleo take the bed but if he was okay with the floor… “Maybe we should both sleep on the floor then.” He shrugged in response. “Then you can wake me up if you get sick again.” 

“You really don’t need to do that. The floor is better than what I’m used to,” fingers ran across the wood boards as he watched the fire closely. He brought his legs up and leaned against his knees. Sorey was at his side in an instant as he remembered Gramps’ warning that Mikleo would only get worse until he left. Eyes shut for a moment, determined to check on Mikleo after a little bit. 

Or at least that had been the plan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments and kudos. 
> 
> As a further note I will add characters and warnings as they appear throughout the story.

When the light finally crept into the window Mikleo lifted his attention from the collection of coals. The fire had burned down during the night, his eyes locked on it. What was it about Elysia that his uncle had trusted and how did Zenrus know him? How did he know so much about what he was? The thoughts had haunted his mind during the night and still they ran through his mind. 

Even as the breathing beside him steadied into something more normal. Sorey stretched as he turned to look at him, almost as if he was trying to remember him. He shook his head as he stretched. “Morning, already?” 

“Yes,” Mikleo lifted his head up as Sorey ran his fingers through mussed hair. It stuck up at odd angles as he fed the fire and dug some of the cooked meat out of a secured package. Other food was pulled out as he pushed the meat on a skewer. 

“Don’t bother for my sake. It will be a waste on me.” 

“Guess you’re not going to get better as long as you’re here,” a sad look crossed his face as he propped up the skewer and crawled over. He was suddenly too close and Mikleo pulled back. Other than Sorey’s touches only his uncle had ever been this close. 

A cool hand pressed against his forehead and the pressure pushed the circlet against his forehead. The hand felt cold against his skin and the warmed gold. The contact was familiar, and even if it was someone he barely knew it held a hint of home. 

How often had his uncle done such a thing? It was more common when he was young but he could remember the sad eyes that watched him as he removed the circlet. His hand had always been warm but not as warm as his skin at the time. 

_“You won’t have to worry about the poison so much once the fever breaks.”_

_“I failed uncle.”_

_“No you didn’t, my child. You defeated the hellion and saved another. Now all you need to do is rest.”_

_“But… the grave uncle.”_

_“I’ll handle it Mikleo. You’ll feel better in the morning.”_

His uncle always looked sadder at those times, but it comforted him. The way he stroked his cheek and kept watch over him was all he needed during those times to know that his uncle would never let anything happen. 

But he was well beyond that child that relied on him. 

Slowly he stood up and took a short breath as he tried to stave off the dizziness that assaulted him in that moment. One hand reached down and he shifted his pack onto his shoulder. 

“Gramps’ domain ends outside of the forest. You’ll be fine there, right?’ 

“Don’t waste your time worrying about my safety,” Mikleo glanced back towards Sorey. He was still as much a puzzle as when he first met him but he had no time to question it. The longer he waited the further Maotelus’ taint spread and perhaps Maotelus himself. Mikleo knew he had to start at the strongest, walk towards the greatest amount of malevolence.

“Mikleo,” Sorey flashed a grin as he held out a staff. One hand closed around it as Mikleo ran his fingers along the smoothly polished wood. “Uh… you looked like you needed a new one.” 

Mikleo blinked as he stared down at the staff and ran his thumb slowly across it. Had his uncle been wrong? No, he was sure he hadn’t been. The thought of him caused a now familiar ache, unsure if he would even be seeing him again. Mikleo’s hand closed tightly around the staff as he offered his free hand to the other. 

“Good-bye Sorey.”

The large hand gripped it firmly, a friendly gesture before Mikleo pulled his hand away. “Thanks Mikleo.” 

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

 

It was a relief to get away from Elysia. Feet moved through the fog, steadier with each step away from the pure domain. A breath was drawn in, the familiar heaviness once again settling in his chest. If he succeeded would the malevolence lessen? 

It was all too likely he wouldn’t survive to worry about it, even as it crept into the back of his mind. If he did survive to see it, would he even last long? He had lived in malevolence for so long the prospect of a purified world was suddenly a frightening concept. 

Mikleo tilted his head up and shielded his eyes as he stared at the dense trees. The novelty of it hadn’t come close to wearing off as fingers brushed over the moss on the dark bark. Even the smell of so much life was foreign, fresh, like even the land lived. Camlann was a dead land where only the dry faint breeze stirred the air. There was so little green, just what could survive in the arid wasteland.

The forest was a dangerous place where enemies could be lurking anywhere. There were too many places to hide in this place where one could barely see much past the line of trees in their vision instead of the much safer open area of Camlann. Feet moved quietly as Mikleo hefted the new staff slightly and ran his fingers over the metal ends. 

It was a better, stronger weapon than his own had been. It would hold up to attacks without leaving cuts on his hands and the boots seemed to press against his feet as opposed to the empty room that rubbed his feet raw. As much as Mikleo did not want to admit it there was nothing Sorey could had gained from his kindness. 

Thoughts flickered away as Mikleo continued to push through the thick trees. It was quiet, quieter than he had ever faced. Even in Camlann his uncle had always been there. His presence had been comforting even during times of silence. But he was alone now, preparing to carve the malevolence out of this world by force. 

As he heard a sound Mikleo’s head jerked up. It was growing louder but it wasn’t an enemy. It was familiar somehow and he froze. Eyes widened in shock at what was before him. His boots were slid off as he cautiously took a single step into the stream. The rocks were smooth and slippery, the water cold against his foot. The wetness surrounded it, encased his foot even as the second one slid in. 

A hand was brought up as he stared down at the water his feet sank into and the slight current that splashed against the cuffs of his pants. Almost cautiously Mikleo bent down to touch the water, wet and cold against his fingertips and beautiful. It flowed so freely and pressed against the rocks, clear blue against the stones beneath it, the curves framed by green. 

Was this the outside world? 

 

“What?” 

Zenrus puffed at his smoke as he watched Sorey closely. The knowledge of what he must do weighed upon him. 

“You want me to leave Elysia?” 

He knew he was asking a great deal but he had ignored the malevolence for too long. From the beginning when he cradled the human child he had known what had to be done. The village had cared for him as their own, accepted a human into their midst, but there had always been a reason. One that Sorey could not learn safe within the confines of Elysia. 

The boy had grown, brought joy to their home, and he had kept him there. He hadn’t been able to bear sending him into a world of pain. It had been one thing to put into motion, another to actually act on it after years of raising Sorey. 

But he couldn’t deny it any longer. 

Zenrus tapped his pipe lightly against a shoe. He had been brought into a land of purity, far away from the touch of malevolence, his resonance honed for the purpose of being groomed to become the Shepherd. He had always thought he had time. But he had been wrong. Elysia had been safe but the world below had not been. 

He had finally acted, maybe too late. He had known it from the second he saw the boy. He could not forget the circlet so easily, one treasured by Muse. Violet eyes had stared out with the same stubbornness and fire that Michael had once had. He had been too slow. The Shepherd could save them but another way had been created. 

One that could only end in pain. 

The death of Maotelus would shake the foundations of Glenwood. Certainly Michael had to know this, but still he had done this. This family had been one he had never thought he would be faced with again. He would keep his secret of that terrible day, the day when he took Sorey to keep him safe and pure as Muse bid her son goodbye in Michael’s arms. There was too much a chance the boy carried even a touch of malevolence inside him. Too much to risk should the malevolence escape from Camlann through any who left. 

Muse had sacrificed herself to seal Camlann off from existence and trapped all who survived. Men, women, children, soldiers, they would never escape Camlann for the greater good. It would become a forsaken place of malevolence, the dying, and hellions. Zenrus had never expected Michael to make a pact with the hellion Maotelus, that he would be foolish enough to do so. 

But desperation made one do unthinkable things. While Sorey was groomed no doubt Michael took his time to prepare Mikleo for the role he must fill. The one he had intended to fill himself. 

Zenrus puffed at his pipe once again. 

Michael was a fool, but one who intended to keep the child safe, no matter the cost.

“Yes,” Zenrus looked at Sorey sternly. He couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer. The world below needed the Shepherd more than ever. “Go to Ladylake and speak with the Lady of the Lake. You’ll know what to do. Find and accompany Mikleo.” 

“Wouldn’t it been easier to send me with when he left?” 

“This is important Sorey,” Sorey jumped slightly and Zenrus softened his voice. “You must speak with the Lady of the Lake first.”

Sorey had been meant to be the Shepherd, the one who could save the world below but now he wasn’t sure. All he was certain about was that he had held Sorey there too long. He needed to send him out before this duty fell on Mikleo’s shoulders alone. 

“Gramps…” Sorey gave a smile as he stood up. “I’ll do it. Don’t worry about anything.” 

Zenrus only wished he didn’t need to. 

 

Outside of the forest it was like an impact, but one that was welcomed. He could see the tangles of darkness that floated through the sky just as he could feel the crushing weight of the malevolence. It was almost as if his body was soothed by the darkness, the short breaths that brought in much less. It wasn’t the same, wasn’t as powerful, but it was there. 

Embracing him but never allowed the entrance it sought.

Mikleo glanced around as he looked in the distance and turned reluctantly from the stream he had walked through. As toes reached the grass he curled them slightly, able to feel the stones beneath them before he reluctantly replaced his boots. 

It would be impossible to truly put a stop to it until he removed the source. Removed Maotelus, but even then it wouldn’t be gone. The outside world did not grow to this with as short of time as Maotelus had been free. They had failed to keep the malevolence captive. But even if he manage to kill Maotelus the task of removing it seemed overwhelming. Even knowing that the Shepherds brought more pain in the end desperation mad Mikleo hope for one to appear. 

That way he wouldn’t be alone in this endeavor. His mind briefly flickered to Sorey, so different than what his uncle had told him, so like the legends of giving and purity. But it had been a chance meeting. His purity was a reminder of what could never be. 

A hand closed around his staff as Mikleo jerked his head up. Camlann had been quiet, he could hear even the slightest change, but here there was so much noise. They came without warning and Mikleo spun just in time. The wolf-like creature threw his weight at Mikleo’s body and forced him back. The end of the staff slammed into the creature’s throat and spun in order to keep the others off him. 

Later he could notice how balanced the staff was, the way it easily stayed in his palms and struck hard, but now wasn’t that time. Power burned inside of him, ready to be taken and end this battle. Fangs bared as one leapt at him and they dug into the staff. It took all his strength just to throw it back and spun the staff. It slammed hard against them and Mikleo felt fangs bury into his shoulder. Eyes narrowed at the presence of a bipedal hellion as it tried to rip the skin from his shoulder. There were others, ever growing closer and Mikleo forced his hand open. He could feel the pain as the wind picked up and slammed hard into the hellions. 

His shoulder hurt and blood dripped from it as Mikleo moved. The wind cut through and slammed into the hellions as some crumbled and the monstrous forms disappeared. The power, it was too strong. Stronger than anything he had ever wielded. A loud sound echoed, a ball of energy, and the final hellion dropped down. 

“Not a goodie goodie. Guess that makes you really something else,” Mikleo turned and eyed the figure for a moment. He stood there, a smug look on his face, as he met Mikleo’s gaze. He seemed winded though he stood up straight and gold eyes locked on Mikleo. 

“Guess old Zaveid can help you out.” 

“I don’t need your help.” 

“Hey,” Zaveid held his hands up in surrender. “You look like you’re still wet behind the ears. Call me a bodyguard.” 

“And what’s in it for you?” Mikleo eyed the seraph warily as he watched him. He wasn’t as powerful as Maotelus or Zenrus. 

“Well let’s just say I help you and you do me a few little favors.” 

“Talk,” perhaps his uncle was right, right about the outside world. A favor for a favor, even from a Seraph. Was this what the outside world really was? Of course it was. Maybe he had some doubts with Sorey but in the end his uncle knew what they were really like. And the truth was he would have to play by their rules no matter how much it twisted his gut. 

Silently Mikleo turned as Zaveid gave him a knowing smirk even as Mikleo stared at the ground and the bodies left by his feet. Animals, men, women, children, and without a word he placed his staff down and nails dug into the soil, pulling at the grass and dirt beneath it. 

This was the least he could do. 

 

He was tired, hungry, and sore. Sorey had had enough running from hellions after the first encounter on his own. He had lost a boot in the process and his cut up foot was screaming for him to get off it and stop walking. He had to head to Ladylake first. Maybe if he was lucky Mikleo would had stayed in a town. 

But that seemed unlikely. 

Mikleo had lived more in the wilderness than he had. At least he had a roof over his head back in Elysia. 

Sorey’s time had been slowed by the loss of the boot and he was relieved when he saw the large bridge before his heart fell. Guards stood, as stiff as anything, eyes locked attentively. They eyed him warily and Sorey’s hand dropped to his ceremonial sword as their hands fell to their actual ones, the glint of metal cruel. 

“Show us your identification. Where do you herald from and what is your purpose?” 

“Uh…” Sorey couldn’t help but take a step back. Maybe he would had been better off swimming the lake the town was named for. Nothing about this place sounded like the Ladylake he had read about in the Celestial Record. None of his books spoke of these types of things. “Sorey, I’m from Elysia. I was told to see the Lady of the Lake.” 

The hand of one tightened around his sword as the other moved forward. Sorey pulled out his ceremonial sword and the two clashed. The metal was unyielding and scraped at the ancient paint on Sorey’s weapon. 

So far things weren’t going well. He just wanted to see the Lady of the Lake. What had become of the Ladylake spoken of in the Celestial Record? 

“Really, I just want to see the Lady of the Lake!” 

“Not a problem, just show us your identification,” Sorey blinked as he held his ceremonial sword tightly. How could it be that this was the same place as the Celestial Record spoke about?

“Is there something going on here?” 

The guards stopped as Sorey lowered his weapon. He glanced from the guards at the entrance to the woman who stood there. The end of her spear rested on the ground as the pair saluted. “Princess Alisha,” they stood straight as they held their ground. “This man has no identification.” 

“I need to see the Lady of the Lake.” 

Green eyes blinked as she glanced between the two and the Sorey. “The Lady of the Lake?” She gasped for a moment as she took a step forward towards Sorey. “It has been a long time since any have come, believing those stories.” 

Sorey almost sighed in relief as the guards relaxed slightly. At least now it didn’t look like he was going to have to fight to get in there. Gramps had told him to find the Lady of the Lake, and that was proving to be harder. 

“Huh? Stories?” 

“Yes, like Seraphim. Maybe it’s foolish of me but I want to believe that all the tales are the truth, the Shepherd and the Seraphim. It is perhaps a naïve hope but it is at least some hope.” 

Sorey froze for a moment as he turned and stared. Gramps had mentioned before that normal humans couldn’t see Seraphim, but did they really believe they didn’t exist? “You really think they do Alisha?” 

Feet echoed against the empty bridge as more guards joined. They tensed and eyed him warily, one on each side of Alisha. Everything about this place and the humans there was new and unusual. It felt like he was really seeing other humans for the first time. Michael and Mikleo had been different, more like him. 

Maybe it was because they could see the Seraphim too. 

Sorey looked around and stared for a moment. This wasn’t anything like he had thought it would be like. He had spent so many years reading the Celestial Record and daydreaming about the world below that he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the empty streets. 

“So many have stopped looking to miracles. It’s hard to believe in any greater power when the people hide in their homes, the towns terrified of Rolance’s next attack. It’s been a long time since anyone could feel safe here.” 

This was not the world he had fantasized about, people peering at him through the closed windows before shying back. 

“Uh… so is the Lady of the Lake still here?” 

Alisha blinked and looked up towards Sorey. “Oh yes, this way.” Cheeks flushed as she pushed open the door to the empty sanctuary. The darkness almost seemed to echo and Sorey couldn’t help but stare at the Seraph asleep on the dais. He could only guess that was the Lady of the Lake that gramps had spoken to him about. 

The area was silent but her breathing was deep as if she was truly asleep. Sorey turned and looked at Alisha as she stood there. She couldn’t see her? Without a word to Alisha he moved closer to the Seraph. A hand reached out and shook her shoulder gently. Sea-green eyes blinked as the Seraph stirred and stared for a long moment. Sorey couldn’t help but shift slightly at the attention. 

“You can see me?” 

“Uh... yeah,” Sorey flashed a grin as he scratched the back of his head. He was sure it had to be weird for her for a human to actually see her. He was certain it was lonely, laying there with no one to ever talk to. “Are you the Lady of the Lake? Gramps sent me to talk to you! This is so lucky that I don’t have to look all over the place.” 

She blinked briefly for a moment as long legs curled up beneath the long fabric. She folded her hands briefly as she nodded. “You may call me Lailah. If you can see me, has the Lord of Calamity truly awoken?” 

Lailah’s voice echoed sadly as she stared down at her hands. 

“Lord of Calamity?” Sorey echoed as he stared at her. The Celestial Record had never spoken about anything like that and he didn’t think Gramps had either. Or at least Sorey didn’t think so. Was this why Gramps wanted him to talk to her? 

“The source of malevolence, the one the Shepherd must defeat for the safety of this world.” 

“Maotelus?” Sorey leaned forward in an instant as he focused on Lailah and grasped her hands. “Do you know something about him and the Shepherd? Is the legend really coming true?” 

Lailah pulled a hand away from Sorey’s grip brought it up to her mouth as she looked around. “Oh would you look at how late it’s become?” 

Confusion was the only thing that Sorey felt. He scratched his head and blinked before he gave her a look. “If the Shepherd has to fight the Lord of Calamity we need to find them!” Sorey jumped up and grabbed Lailah’s wrist as he pulled her up. If the Shepherd was going to arrive soon then Mikleo wouldn’t have to fight Maotelus by himself. Maybe he wouldn’t have to kill either. 

“You want the Shepherd? Do you know what you are asking?” 

“Well we really need to find him, right?”

Lailah ducked her head slightly before she looked towards the sword behind her and lightly gripped the fabric of her dress. “What is your name?” 

“Oh yeah!” Sorey laughed aloud as he looked at her. He really hadn’t thought of giving her his name. It was just so easy to forget about. Everyone had always known him in Elysia and the other humans he had met other than Alisha just demanded it. “Sorey.” 

“Sorey, the path of the Shepherd is a lonely one. They are feared and hated. Are you truly certain about this?” 

Sorey suddenly froze as he stared at Lailah. Was she talking about him? Was that why Gramps had sent him to the lower world? Even the idea felt enormous, a weight that already seemed to be lingering so nearby. 

“Yes, I’m sure!” He had to have known, that was why he was sent there and that was why Gramps had told him to find Mikleo. He didn’t have to find anyone. He could help Mikleo himself. “If it means Mikleo doesn’t have to fight Maotelus alone I’ll do it!” 

No one should have to do something like that alone, and now he could help him. 

Lailah looked up and her eyes widened slightly before she finally nodded and ducked her head. “If you’re certain Sorey approach the sword. You shall become my vessel and fight the malevolence with the flames of purification.” 

“Got it!” It took a few steps, taken several at a time and touched the hilt of the sword. His heart pounded as he gripped the warm hilt. It felt alive, like something that lived and breathed, and it almost whispered to him. He’d become the Shepherd of legend. He was going to be able to help save the lower world. 

Sorey braced himself as he pulled at the sword. It seemed to strain at his muscles, even his blood on fire as the blade ripped loose. His grip tightened at it more and looked across. He saw the shock and paleness of Alisha’s face and the way the guards crossed their blades before her. But that was all he saw, the edges of his vision darkening. The burning wasn’t stopping, in fact it was just getting worse. He wanted it to stop, needed it to, but it wouldn’t. 

_Is this what it’s like for Mikleo? ___

__And then pain shot as his shoulder collided with the hard floor. He groaned and rolled over slightly as his body trembled. Sorey fought it, grasped for consciousness, but it was nothing but a losing battle._ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you for the wonderful reviews and kudos. I apologize for this chapter taking a bit longer.

A groan echoed as Sorey rolled under the sheet. It stuck to his skin and slowly he forced his eyes open into the sun. His mouth felt dry and he swallowed to try to wet it, his body weak. Where was he? How had he ended up there? 

It took a moment to remember the moments before. Lailah, the sword, and the burning of what he could only guess was power. Sorey jerked up slightly as he stared at his palms. They didn’t look any different. Nothing did, but he felt different. It wasn’t the burning that traveled through his blood or how he imagined power would feel. 

No, instead his chest felt heavy, like a weight that threatened to crush his lungs. He had to draw in deeper breaths to get at the air that he knew was there. A hand was brought up to his chest but there was nothing there, just the buttons and fabric of his top shirt. There was no weight that he swore was there. 

“Sorey?” 

The voice echoed in his head and Sorey jumped as he fell back against the bed. Hands splayed behind him as a flash of light hurt his eyes. Lailah stood there, her lips quirked in a concerned look. 

“Lailah?” Sorey stared at her. “What was that? Why does my chest hurt so much?” 

“As my vessel I must now reside inside you,” she bowed her head slightly. “You are feeling the effects of the power of the Shepherd. You can feel the malevolence that has gathered. It is especially strong here, stronger than I had thought.” 

“Malevolence?” Sorey’s voice broke off as he tried to swallow. It hurt so badly and his lungs burned. Every inch of his body felt the growing pressure and it took a moment to focus his eyes. How did anyone live in this? 

And then Sorey froze, he opened his mouth and stared. Gramps had talked about the strength of the malevolence, how the loss of it had affected Mikleo. Was this what it felt like every day for him? The thought of the other boy was like a shock, a reminder of what Gramps had told him to do. Sorey kicked the sheets off that were tangled around his legs and let his feet hit the floor. 

“We gotta find Mikleo.” 

“Mikleo?” Lailah peered at him and Sorey felt her eyes on him, watching him with what could only be sadness. 

“Yeah,” Sorey nodded. “Gramps told me to find him after I talked to you. He’s trying to fight the malevolence and Maotelus himself,” he quickly stood up. “That has to be why Gramps sent me, to become the Shepherd and help Mikleo face Maotelus.” 

Hands folded and Sorey blinked as he watched Lailah. “Hey Lailah, is Maotelus the Lord of Calamity.” 

Suddenly she giggled. “Lord, lord, what a funny word!”

“Uh…” Sorey blinked as he scratched the back of his head. He was still trying to make sense of Lailah’s outbursts but he hadn’t been awake for that long either. All he knew was that he was the Shepherd, he could purify hellions, and now he could help Mikleo. 

“Well let’s head out,” Sorey said as he stood and stretched. “Though maybe I should make sure Alisha knows I’m still alive,” he scratched the back of his head. “Hey Lailah, was I out for a while?” 

Finally she smiled in response. “Three days. You had quite the fever while your body adjusted to my power but you seem to be doing quite well now. Outside will be the real test in the malevolence.” 

Sorey turned and stared out the window. The sky was spotted with black that seemed to consume everything. It wrapped around the area and snuck under doors where no doubt it was going for the humans. A sudden sick feeling knotted in Sorey’s stomach. He knew what had happened to all the hellions in Camlann, all the people there. Hands clenched slightly. 

But now he wouldn’t be alone. He had the flames of purification. 

“Wait… three days?” 

Lailah slowly nodded. “I know it’s a while but it is only to be expected,” Lailah began before Sorey groaned loudly and dug his fingers through his hair. 

“Mikleo’s got three days on me! At this rate I’m never going to catch him!” He had to move as fast as he could. Sorey half stumbled and then groaned as he pulled one boot on and all too quickly remembered that the other was gone, probably in the jaws of a hellion. Lailah smiled and covered the giggle as Sorey stood there, only one boot on. 

He laughed as he scratched the back of his head. “Guess I should get some new ones, huh.” Sorey knew he wouldn’t get very far with one boot, and he wanted to see Alisha and thank her for her help before he left. Without it he was pretty sure he wouldn’t even had gotten into the city, much less been able to see Lailah.

An hour more of headway couldn’t possibly make that big of difference. 

 

“Hey Mikkiddo, you know where our boy Maotelus wandered off to, don’t you?” 

To say there was any enjoyment in the seraph’s company would be a lie, however Mikleo wasn’t going to turn him away when their tasks were identical. Even with another in the fight the idea of destroying Maotelus seemed too daunting. Mikleo knew he should wait, grow stronger, but every day he only cut at the malevolence in the outside world more spread. 

Going after them would get him nowhere, not when the source was still strong. Despite his desire not to rely on another he knew nothing about common sense told him he needed Zaveid. He had a desire to fight Maotelus and right now battling him was a task that felt too daunting. 

The nicknames however were wearing on him, as were the complaints at the lack of an inn, lack of eye candy, his reluctance to give him the tiny bit of food, and generally lecherous comments. Deep in Mikleo’s mind he wondered if it was not only humans but the entire outside world that his uncle had warned him of. 

And with each comment veiled in mystery as to anything about Zaveid’s reasoning Mikleo finally admitted to himself that he found a strange yearning for Sorey’s pure kindness. He at least knew enough to trust Sorey, knew that his motives were pure. 

He knew neither about Zaveid. 

“And if I do?” 

“You’re after him, I got a score to settle. So why are we sitting around in the dirt and killing and burying all these small fries?” 

Because Mikleo knew. He knew that he could not face Maotelus in Camlann. He didn’t have the power yet. There was no other reason for his uncle to send him away when his true target was Maotelus. No matter how he carved away at the small hellions more malevolence seeped from Camlann and hundreds more took their place. 

If he was to chip away at the malevolence he needed to remove a powerful force, a large gathering of it in a single figure. He needed to pursue the strongest hellions, destroy bits and pieces of Maotelus’ power and influence. The malevolence would still be there, but he would slowly be creating cracks in Maotelus’ shield. 

The larger amount of malevolence he destroyed the more power Maotelus would use to replace it. And then when the shield cracked enough he could remove the head. Without Maotelus perhaps slowly the smaller amounts of malevolence could be chipped away at. 

“You want to attack Maotelus in his stronghold?” 

“Hey, take out the ringleader,” Zaveid shrugged his shoulders, hands in the air before a leer appeared. “Unless you’re scared Mickey.” 

Mikleo’s back suddenly went ramrod straight as his head snapped around. “I’m not afraid!” Out of all the things he was he was not afraid, not a coward. Silently Mikleo seethed at the insult and even more at Zaveid’s laughter. 

“Always so easy,” Zaveid slapped his back and the violet eyes locked on the wind seraph. He didn’t care how much his hatred and disgust may be showing. Silently he seethed at Zaveid’s attitude and insults. Couldn’t he understand how serious the situation was? 

No, all he knew was that he had an issue with Maotelus and everything else in the world didn’t seem to matter. Golden eyes watched him and every inch of Mikleo was put on edge. 

“You want to see Maotelus? You want to see how you’d fare against him?” 

“Whoa, whoa!” Zaveid waved his hands in front of him. “You really are shitting yourself about facing him, mister ‘I need to destroy Maotelus and cleanse this world’.” 

“You make me sound like the Shepherd.” He wasn’t. He was nothing like those ancient tales, tales that his uncle whispered in bitterness. _He is no savior. He will only bring more pain._

“Nah, then you’d be a goody two shoes saint, going on about purifying them,” Zaveid eyed him for a moment. “Sometimes killing them is the best way to save them. You got the right idea.” 

_Idea?_

No, it was his power and that was all. This was how he had to save him, the duty that was given to him. A hand closed around the staff, as smooth in his hand as it had been the first day. That purity had been like a light, just like Elysia, and he was not made for something so bright. Fate decreed that his place was in the shadows. 

“So when we going to see our boy Maotelus, Mikkiddo,” Zaveid’s smirk grew as Mikleo stared down at the ground. Was he avoiding it? Each day that passed he missed Camlann, he missed waking up to the first rays of sun that shone through the ruined shrine. He missed waking up sore from his sleeping arrangements and turning to see his uncle already sitting up, legs crossed as he ate in silence. 

_“You’re awake.”_

_“Is the seal still whole uncle? Have more hellions been born throughout the night.”_

_A gentle smile with the hint of sadness that Mikleo was so accustomed to. But despite the sadness it still warmed his heart. There was never any pure joy but this was enough. He felt his hand that always felt large against his dainty frame, pressed against his cheek._

_“Don’t concern yourself too much with that right now. The day is still young Mikleo. They will come for you soon enough.”_

“You want to see Maotelus?” Mikleo’s jaw clenched as he collected the supplies and packed them into his bed. “Are you certain about that?” 

“So serious! Gotta find out how far we have to go before we can get rid of him.” 

Eyes locked on Zaveid suspiciously for a moment. He still didn’t know anything, much less his reason for his aim for Maotelus. It didn’t make sense if he didn’t know of the corruption, and how could he? They had taken painstaking care to make sure Maotelus never escaped, never emerge to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting world. 

“Let’s go.”

Zaveid snorted slightly. “So bossy Mickey, gonna tell me where we’re going?” 

“Camlann.” 

 

It had taken a lot of explaining, but once the hurried words came in Sorey’s clumsy manner it made sense. So many had thought her a fool, a child, to want to believe in the ancient tales. But she had wanted to, ached to, and finally here was a man who did not think her a fool.

So far the guards had said nothing about their idealistic princess. They were there, like statues as always, only acting if they believed her life was in danger. She did not have the power to halt the war that had been going on for nearly two decades. This horror was all she knew. 

She was too naïve, thinking there could ever be peace between the countries. Rolance attacked regularly, spies sneaking into their territory and murdering soldiers patrolling. Assassins weeded away at their leaders and attacks shattered Ladylake. The people were terrified to come out of their homes, too much risk of an attack. 

When they didn’t attack Ladylake they went after the small towns too far for their thin military that grew even thinner with forces that were sent out. Alisha was unfortunately not naïve enough to not realize why their army was so thin. Tears were shed for the innocent. 

“Sorey, you are blessed by the Seraphim,” she stood up instantly as she looked at him and could see the confusion written over his face. “I humbly beg you to lend Hyland your power against Rolance so that we may end this once and for all,” eyes stared at Sorey, pleading. 

This was the only way they would have peace. The war tore at her heart but talks did nothing, not when neither set of leaders were willing to compromise. Tears threatened at the thought of all the lives taken by this war. It would take more death to end it but on the battlefield innocents would be safe and with Rolance’s defeat their cities and land would be safe. 

This was the only path to peace. 

“Wha-what?” Sorey took a moment but then blinked. He turned to look as if he was looking and listening to something. “I know Lailah, the Shepherd can’t get involved with human issues.” He sighed and his shoulders sloped. 

Alisha couldn’t help but stare. Were there Seraphim really there? Were they with Sorey? It seemed difficult to believe but she did believe it. He was the Shepherd, the one who was meant to save them. 

Slowly Alisha lowered her head. “I know what I ask of you and the Seraphim is a lot but I beg you Sorey. Help us end this war. Save the innocents who don’t deserve to die.”

Sorey almost seemed to be pondering it but then shook his head. “Alisha, can I take your hand?” 

The request seemed strange but still there had to be a reason for it. Slowly she offered her hand and as Sorey took it there was nothing. He looked over beside him, confused. Sorey closed his eyes and still there was nothing. A longer pause this time and he inhaled deeply and held his breath. 

“Alisha? Can you hear me?” 

Alisha almost jumped at the woman’s sound out of nowhere. “Your desires are truly pure, however the Shepherd cannot chose sides in a human battle. The Shepherd is meant to save the world, not interfere in human issues.” 

“But innocents-“ 

“I am truly sorry Alisha but there will always be death. If we are able to stop the Lord of Calamity we can save this world, you must understand this. In order to save all from the malevolence, not just innocents but all humans and Seraphim alike.” 

“I-“ Alisha was cut off as Sorey gasped for breath. He panted hard and groaned. “I need to talk to her more!” 

“Uh… Lailah, isn’t there another way?” Sorey waited for a moment and groaned. “Sorry, I really don’t think I can take anymore. And I really can’t stay. I need to find Mikleo.” Sorey scratched the back of his head. “By the way, how did this war thing start?” 

Alisha gasped and her hand was brought up. Could he possibly not know? She had thought it was a story all children were told, different versions to each country. A warning of the dangers of the world outside their homes. And even those were dangerous. 

“Tensions have always run high between Hyland and Rolance, however nearly two decades ago Rolance made the first move. They took occupancy of a small town in neither Rolance nor Hyland. It was a strategical position and whoever held the town could attack the other with impunity.” 

Alisha forced herself to look up at Sorey as she sat down and sipped at her tea. “Hyland could not allow that so they invaded the town. No one knows what happened but all the soldiers disappeared. Rolance blamed Hyland for the lack of return of their soldiers while Hyland blamed Rolance for the loss of their own.” 

“But they just disappeared? Did you ever find them? There’d be bodies, right?” 

Alisha sadly shook her head as she stared down, remembering the story she had been told so often. “The part often left out is that which confuses even the leaders. Not only did the soldiers disappear never to be found again, the entire town disappeared, never to be seen again.” 

“The people?” 

“Not just that, but the entire physical town. It was never found again.”

Sorey stared for a moment and blinked before he sat down hard in the empty chair. It was a shock that he had never heard the myth of Camlann. The older knew it existed but it was just easier to explain it away as a story and that the war began through a border skirmish. 

“What’s the town?” 

Did he actually believe the myth? Alisha blinked as she frowned slightly. “Camlann.” 

“But Camlann’s real!” Sorey stood up instantly. “I… kinda accidently broke the seal so that was probably why it disappeared…” Sorey shook his head. “But it’s real! There used to be a ton of hellions but now the only hellion there is Maotelus. That’s why I need to find Mikleo! He’s one of the only humans that were there! Him and his uncle and-“ 

Sorey stopped suddenly as he stared down. His face shone with the emotional pain and his fingers curled and clenched. 

“They’re the only humans…” Sorey jerked his head to the side. “Lailah, did they become hellions?” 

He visibly swallowed as he shook his head. “Even if you don’t tell me, I know. I knew before but I didn’t want to think about it,” he shook his head. “Those graves… that’s the people of Camlann and soldiers. I saw some when… when he buried her.” 

Alisha wanted to ask more questions. It was horrifying that so many bodies were there. But then they were really all dead. Her heart clenched painfully. “Sorey?” 

“Mikleo… you had to kill them all didn’t you? How old could you had been? I’ll be there and you won’t have to kill anyone ever again,” Sorey’s voice was soft as he spoke before the seriousness look was forced away. “Thank you for everything Alisha.” 

She nodded slowly as she glanced away. She had hoped that the Shepherd meant this war could finally end. Hands fell at her sides as she stood. No, she couldn’t make Sorey do this. This was the country she owed her allegiance to and as a princess and a knight it was her duty. 

“Before you go please Sorey, please accept this gift,” Alisha moved over to the ledge and grasped the heavy cloak and glove. “It is only fitting for the Shepherd to wear the traditional garb,” she stared down. “It’s been too long so it’s not the same but I put my heart into making sure it was close!” 

Sorey instantly beamed as he took the cloak. He bounded forward and Alisha straightened out slightly and she felt her face burn as arms hugged her tightly. Sorey drew back and his smile grew. “Thank you Alisha!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for the reviews and kudos. I do apologize that this took me so long. I found it very difficult to write this chapter and sincerely hope I did it justice. 
> 
> Warning: The following chapter includes a minor character death (more mid-size for the sake of the story) as well as violent imagery.

Mikleo would never admit it to Zaveid but the truth was the path to Camlann was unknown. Going through Elysia again was the most direct path however he knew the domain would keep him there for potentially days. 

And Sorey was there. 

He didn’t want to think about the boy who made him question if his uncle had actually been correct, who had challenged him until they were bickering about ruins like a pair of children when he had many more important things to do. 

With the seal gone it was possible however. Camlann was no longer locked away from the outside world. If it could truly be called that any longer. He knew he had to go around the forest but all that guided him was feel. He just had to keep taking steps in the direction that was easier on his body. That would guide him to Maotelus’ domain and the malevolence that blanketed Camlann like a fog. 

He knew they were getting closer, the number of hellions growing, but another problem had occurred. 

Mikleo turned back, critical eyes focused on Zaveid. He was lagging behind, but every time Mikleo paused he would get a ‘how old do you think I am Mikiddo?’ And so there was nothing he could do but continue on his trek. 

“Yo Mickey! Isn’t this the long way around?” 

Mikleo took a breath and held it for a moment as he turned back. “Too long for you?” 

“Nope,” Zaveid gave him a look, the same infuriating look he had given him through the trip so far. The one that blatantly said he knew something and he wasn’t going to tell him. “Looks like you’re avoiding it.” 

A smirk appeared as Mikleo’s grip tightened slightly on the staff. “I’m not avoiding it,” he hissed as shoulders tensed. 

“Ooh, got a hunny somewhere around here?” Zaveid stepped forward and swung an arm over Mikleo’s shoulders. He took a breath as he pushed the Seraph off. 

“Why do you think you have to touch me?” 

“Hey, whoa! Don’t make it sound all nasty. Just being friendly here,” Zaveid held his hands up in defense and Mikleo grew to hate the look in his eyes. “So you do got a hunny around here, huh. Real babe?” 

“What are you even talking about?” 

“Bet you left without a word. Such a kid, missing out on such fine things in life.” 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” none of what Zaveid was saying made any sense whatsoever. Mikleo did his best to ignore him, which was easier said than done. Relief came as boots came in contact with rocky ground. He looked up towards the dark sky, the consuming pressure of malevolence ever closer. 

He heard the sudden onslaught of malevolence seem to pull the breath from Zaveid’s lungs as he breathed easier. The outside world had been filled with malevolence but even that was weaker than he was accustomed to. What Zenrus had told him was in his mind. Being in a land that was too pure could grow dangerous. 

“Shit, take it we hit a damn domain.” 

“Maotelus’,” there was no joking but a smirk displayed its features on Zaveid’s face. 

“Well let’s get this party started.” 

 

Sorey groaned as his head dropped and Lailah appeared beside him with a flash. She looked at him curiously, as if trying to figure out what he was making all that noise about. 

“Tracking prickleboars was easy. There’s just too many hellions and people who’ve walked here,” he scratched at his head as he looked around him. “I don’t even know what way Mikleo went!” Hands rubbed at his face. 

Lailah pursed her lips slightly. “Do you know him? Where is he likely to have gone?” 

“Wherever the strongest malevolence is,” Sorey couldn’t miss the echo of shock in Lailah’s gasp. “If he can sense it why would he go where it’s strongest?”

Sorey knew but he didn’t really know how to explain it. The things that Gramps had said made more sense now that he could see the malevolence and feel the domains. He didn’t know what Camlann’s was like, couldn’t even guess as to where Mikleo would be headed. There was just no answer. And he wasn’t going to get any by staring at the ground at his feet. Every moment the darkness seemed to gather over the city more and more. It hung like a heavy cloud, blanketing it. It flooded it until even far outside of it Sorey could feel the pressure. 

“Is there anything we can do?” 

Lailah tilted her head slightly as she watched Sorey for a moment. “I thought you needed to find Mikleo.” 

“Yeah… but I can’t just leave it like that.” 

Slowly Lailah shook her head. “Ladylake’s blessing disappeared long ago but even a Lord of the Land cannot save the cities now. The malevolence is too powerful. It covers every inch of this world. Pure vessels that cannot fight the malevolence would only be corrupted and the Lords of the Land with them. No blessing can stand against this tide.” 

It was a hollow feeling. He was the Shepherd. He should be able to do something, but now he felt even more helpless than he had when he couldn’t do anything. What was the point if he couldn’t even begin purifying this land? 

“What do I do?” 

Lailah shook her head and gave a sad smile. “Travel the world and find your own answer. Perhaps you can find it with his Mikleo you were sent to accompany.” 

Which just led him back to an impossible task. Sorey had never in his wildest dreams imagined how big the world below could be. There was so much to discover but the malevolence that lingered ever closer kept him from doing so. The power it held felt ominous, like if he strayed too far into it he would never be able to return. 

“Okay Lailah, guess we just pick a direction.” 

She smiled and clapped her hands together as her eyes lit up. “That’s an excellent plan Sorey.” 

Deep down even he wasn’t able to believe it.

 

The dust was as familiar as the heavy weight upon him and the silence that echoed so clearly. This domain filled with malevolence was what he knew better than any other. The worn down road was one he walked a million times but now without the seal there was nothing to keep Camlann from the outside world.

But this was his home, the same home his uncle had told him not to return to. 

Fingers tightened around his staff and Mikleo turned his attention to the sky overhead that killed all life around. 

“Man, our boy Maotelus must’ve hit his head, hiding out in a place like this.” 

“It wasn’t always like this. Maotelus made it so,” Mikleo shot a glare back towards Zaveid but the wind seraph only laughed. He didn’t feel like reprimanding him, not when something about his home felt off. It was a curdling that seemed to freeze his blood. A coldness that shot through his entire body. The malevolence still flooded and it wasn’t as if anything had changed. It wasn’t like stepping foot into Zenrus’ domain or the malevolence that embraced him like an old friend within Maotelus’ domain. 

There was something wrong with his home. 

The air was completely still, not even the barely stirred air. Silence echoed like a tomb without even that. All he could hear was Zaveid and his own breaths. They seemed to leave his body quickly despite the growth of comfort. 

“Something’s wrong.” 

“Really Mikiddo. The whole place is crawling with malevolence and you’re saying something’s wrong?” 

“It’s not that! This amount of malevolence is normal,” Mikleo turned back on Zaveid, his shoulders tense. “Did you think it wouldn’t be? That Maotelus wouldn’t have a domain so drenched in malevolence that any other person wouldn’t last?” 

“So how do you?” Zaveid smirked as he stepped forward. “Don’t think ol’ Zaveid is blind to the fact that you got an ass load of secrets.” 

“I don’t see you offering up your own,” short, clipped, Mikleo tensed even further as the end of his staff dug into the dry, cracked ground. He hadn’t needed to explain to Zenrus but Zaveid was different. Not that he had any desire to explain it to the wind seraph either. Zaveid never before asked where the power came from or even where he was from so Mikleo had no reason to demand answers from him. 

The only thing they shared was the one common purpose. 

“Ooh, struck a nerve huh.” 

Mikleo glanced away, intent on not looking over towards Zaveid. As much as he knew he couldn’t do this alone he really wished his partner in this was anyone but Zaveid. The thoughts did not linger for long as the dead air moved. No, something was wrong. He couldn’t stay there, not when he knew his uncle was still in Camlann. 

He didn’t give a word of warning as he ran. 

How far was it? He didn’t know, but all that mattered was that his uncle was safe. Without the seal to trap Camlann the road was longer, the feel of Camlann far emptier. But it wasn’t empty enough. Not when he could hear the sound that reverberated through the ground. 

A loud sound that almost seemed to reflect the death it would place upon the outside world. Mikleo could barely breathe as he ran past the houses and then froze. His body shook as he saw the creature that stared at him. His breath seemed to freeze in his lungs, trapped in his throat, as the terror clenched at him. 

Terror he had only known once before. 

He knew Maotelus, and Maotelus knew him, but this time there was no protective arm before him. Clawed feet dug into the ground as Maotelus took a step forward. “Ah shit Mickey, guess you found him.” 

Mikleo couldn’t say anything as the eyes focused intently on him, meant to drive fear straight through his soul. And he felt it. He felt every ounce of the fear that was there. He could still hear Zaveid tell him to move his ass but the power only caused him to remain rooted in his spot. He couldn’t move, not until the jaw snapped at him. It should had killed him. Should had, but it didn’t. 

No, he wasn’t even standing any longer, instead on his knees buffeted by wind. 

“You looking to get killed?” A rough hand grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him up as Mikleo turned back. He shouldn’t had. He knew he shouldn’t had, but he did and the clawed foot slammed into him. It was heavy. The claws dug into the ground as he felt his head slammed against the hard ground. It didn’t seem real, but he knew it was. 

Maotelus planned to kill him here rather than leave the risk of him remaining alive. The one who had given him the power to destroy him would be the one to kill him. It became clearer with each passing moment, the heaving of the foot against his chest. Fingers reached for the staff, his body trapped beneath the weight. 

Power seemed to burn, power that he had been able to rip away so many times before. The wind slammed into the foot, fought with the strength of Maotelus, a momentary power that gave Mikleo long enough to move. His body trembled as the wind moved around him. It pulled at the short hair and for a moment he met Maotelus’ gaze before the Lord of the Seraphim pulled away. The malevolence circled around him and seemed to cloak him. A master of darkness taken away by it. 

 

It was impossible to miss. The ground shook and Sorey grabbed for his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned for oxygen as fingers dug into the ground. He felt sick and his body tensed. His lungs ached and vision doubled for a moment. 

“The Lord of Chaos has emerged into our world.” 

Lailah’s soft voice echoed and Sorey jerked his head back towards her. The Lord of Chaos? Was she talking about Maotelus? Did that mean he hadn’t left before? 

“Lailah, what’s going on?” 

She lowered her head and a sad smile appeared. She looked towards him and her eyes only matched the sadness of her smile. “Sorey, you are the Shepherd. The Lord of Calamity will wait for you but he will tear apart the world as he does so.” 

Fear. 

That was something that Sorey was not used to. Sure, he had known lighter fear but the one that emanated was beyond anything he had felt before. And he just knew. Even if Lailah hadn’t told him he knew that it had to be Maotelus. 

_Mikleo._

He had to find him and find him now. But thinking that really wasn’t helping him. Not when malevolence seemed to flood the area he now stood. He had thought it was bad before. Obviously he didn’t know bad. Maybe this was what Camlann had been like, before he was the Shepherd and could sense it. However it had been his mind wasn’t on that. 

_Mikleo, what happened?_

The person he was searching for, the one with the answers, was the one person he couldn’t find. 

 

He felt it, the sudden change in the air. It would be truly impossible to. Maybe with the growth of malevolence the hellion he needed would appear again. The one who haunted him even now. Even if she came there would be no beacon of light, not for one such as him. But no matter if this malevolence brought her out it would also catch the attention of so many. Maybe they couldn’t see it but they would feel it, the shift in the power of the world. 

A head turned and hands rested on hips. 

Dezel focused on the girl he had long used as his pure vessel. It had been so long ago and she wouldn’t remember. What they had been then had changed until it could not return. The Windriders were no more, had ceased to be anymore what felt like long ago. 

She could feel something, he knew she could. The shift in the malevolence even if she could never see it. As strong as it was her resonance was now as faint as the memory of those days long ago. He would have his revenge without her ever knowing, even if he had to use her. 

Finally she turned her head. “Are they corrupt? You know we don’t take jobs to kill good people.” 

“Are there any of those left?” 

“That’s why we watch them!” She motioned with a hand, annoyed. “The Scattered Bones aren’t going to kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it, you know the rules.” She shook her head and groaned in frustration. 

Obviously the shift in the world had been forgotten. A shift that Dezel wouldn’t soon forget. 

“Of course boss,” he turned his head and Dezel watched the eyes narrow, the hellion in plain view for those who knew. 

“Okay, so we head to the Capital. Our passports should get us in there and these days the Sparrowfeathers are the only ones that dare cross the land. We’re the only hope for any sort of trade. Then we find our target there, and we watch them, got it Lunarre?” 

She pointed at him and the hellion bowed his head even though Dezel could see the way his teeth showed between his lips. 

 

Mikleo gave a glance back towards Zaveid and stood there, staring at the wind seraph sitting on the ground. “Ah shit, talk about some power. So much for a fight.” 

“Whatever you have isn’t going to be any use against Maotelus.” 

“You so sure of that Mickey?” Zaveid smirked and opened up his mouth to say more as Mikleo suddenly stiffened and jerked around. He heard Zaveid groan as he took off. His feet carried him as fast as they could. Whatever injuries he had because of Maotelus didn’t matter. 

His mind instead was in a constant chant. 

_Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!_

Short breaths escaped as Mikleo tore towards the shrine. Even empty he was sure that it was where his uncle would be. It had to be where he was, unless he had retreated to their home. Even if he couldn’t leave he knew not to face Maotelus, didn’t he? 

Mikleo was certain he knew but he still ran. It didn’t matter that his lungs were burning or that his body hurt, not until his feet hit the stonework. The boots slammed against it as Mikleo looked wildly around. His heart pounded. 

“Uncle! Uncle where are you!” Fear worse than when Maotelus had stood before him, worse than when the first hellion attacked him, worse than the nights when the hellions battered against their doors when he had believed nothing could be done. 

“Uncle!” 

There was no answer. There had to be some sort of answer. His uncle was here, he knew he was. Eyes wildly searched, his mind racing in what could only be panic. He was here he had to be. He was alright. Mikleo couldn’t accept anything else. If his uncle wasn’t alright he would be alone. 

He had to be alright. He was all he had. 

His mind raced and then froze. No, his mind was jumping to possibilities. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. The scream was torn out as Mikleo tried to yank the heavy stone. It didn’t budge, didn’t move. There was blood, a body that bones jutted from. A disfigured human and lifeless violet eyes stared back at him. 

“UNCLE!”

The scream left his throat as Mikleo crumpled to his knees. He couldn’t move the rock, the piece of the shrine that had crushed his body. His throat was raw and he shook his head. No, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t possible. This was some nightmare that he just wanted to wake from. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. 

Arms wrapped around his uncle’s cold body, his hand pressed in an attempt to stop the bleeding from his chest where bones stuck out, terrifying pale spears. Mikleo tried to stop it. He couldn’t be gone, couldn’t be gone from his life. The familiar rough cloth was under his hand, even the blood that drenched it was cold. It wasn’t gushing out but Mikleo couldn’t accept it. He couldn’t accept that he was already gone. 

Inhuman cries escaped that turned into unintelligible sobs. Fingers dug into the pale hair as he buried his face against it. 

_He’s not dead._

_He’s not dead._

_He’s not dead._

_He’s not dead._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry this took so long. Anyways, thank you so much for the kudos and wonderful reviews. They make my day and keep me pushing on, knowing that people are enjoying this story. Also I apologize for the formatting. It seemed that no matter what I did it refused to format properly.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. 

The word echoed in Mikleo’s mind. He sat there and stared blankly at his uncle’s form. He was alone, truly alone. The hollowness echoed deep within as he stared down at his uncle’s lifeless form. He didn’t move but he knew he wouldn’t. He knew even as the head rested on his lap. He couldn’t bury him, not like all those he killed. It was the only thing he could do, lay them to rest as his guilt demanded. 

But his uncle was crushed by rocks he could not move. His body destroyed and Mikleo’s hands covered in blood. His back bent, not caring that he smeared it as he stroked his uncle’s hair. He couldn’t move, even as his uncle’s body grew colder in his lap. 

Tears were spent, no sound would emerge but instead there was hollowness. 

“Someone important, huh.” 

“My uncle,” Mikleo knew there would no pity from Zaveid. It just wasn’t his way. But still he didn’t move other than to hold his uncle’s head close. He couldn’t just leave him like this even if he knew. He couldn’t stop. His uncle had given everything to give him the power to destroy Maotelus. Maybe Zenrus called him a fool but it didn’t matter. His uncle was a good man. He did this to save them all even to the end. 

“So that’s how you knew Maotelus was here.” 

Mikleo couldn’t say anything. A shaky hand just stroked his uncle’s hair. It didn’t matter how crushed his body was still he couldn’t move. The shape of his uncle’s body only matched how crushed he felt inside. He didn’t want to move, didn’t do so even as his legs ached. All that was beyond him even as the throbs echoed through his legs. 

“Uncle,” his lips parted in a whisper. 

“Hey Mikiddo, don’t want to disturb you and all but we better clear out.” 

“Maotelus isn’t returning. He freed himself to spread his taint throughout the entire outside world. It was only a matter of time before he left Camlann.” Eyes closed as Mikleo let his head drop, his forehead against his uncle’s. He was cold, so cold. He was used to the warm strong embrace, the way he stood at his side beyond even the worst actions. He had been his uncle, his father, his mentor, his protection, his strength, and now he was gone, ripped away. Mikleo felt as if each of those had been torn from him. 

He didn’t know how long he remained there. How long until Zaveid yanked him up. “You’ve still got a job. A day’s long enough.” 

An entire day of sitting there, an entire day of Zaveid giving him the space he needed. But he couldn’t just leave his uncle there. He couldn’t. He had to lay him to rest, not leave him like some trash, a carcass for scavenging animals to feed on. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t move the large stones from the crumbled shrine. The ones that crushed him to death. Hands shook and Mikleo dropped his head and took a step back, a mental promise that he would return. He would find some way to remove the stones. 

“Give me a little bit,” Mikleo whispered as he turned away. Stiff legs stumbled as he leaned on the staff. The walk felt long, weighed down by grief. The home was old and the door barely stood any longer. It shifted open and splinters fell loose. And then Mikleo froze as his eyes lingered on the desk. Feet shuffled closer and touched the letter folded, the writing on aged paper. He would always know it. It was the same script of the Celestial Record in his bag. Lightly he touched it, the blood on his hands too dried to smear. 

Mikleo quivered as he held the letter before he reached down and his hand ran over the smooth wood of the bow that rested there. It seemed almost untouched, but he could feel the power within it. It seemed to pull at him as fingers curled around it and picked it up. He needed it, he didn’t know why but he knew he needed it. Mikleo swung the quiver until it rested on his back, the bow secured. It was an unfamiliar weight but it felt like it belonged. 

A shaky breath escaped as he held the staff and approached the ragged trunk. It took only a few hits from the end of his staff for the ancient look to break and then Mikleo froze at the sight of the Shepherd cloak the rested inside. 

Why did he know it? Why did something of familiarity tug at him and why did his uncle have it. Fingers shook as he reached down and lifted it carefully. Mikleo pulled it to his chest, the fabric thick but soft, well-crafted to hold up to the years that it rested in there. It felt soft against his cheek, the blue still bold and the white still pure. It was familiar, almost comforting, and a hand closed around the black Shepherd’s glove before both were folded carefully, almost reverently and rested in his pack. 

Finally Mikleo focused on the letter in his hand. 

_Mikleo,_

_My dear child. I wish that this was not the way it had to be but I must pay for my sins. My crimes are great, numbered beyond even what I wish to accept. My crime to those I swore to protect by not doing so, the crime of letting Maotelus be consumed after safety was promised, the crime of taking such a pact when I knew the danger. When a Shepherd’s pact is broken does their duty end? No, I do not believe it does. However my failure to protect the people I swore to protect was my own doing. I allowed the armies of Rolance into our borders under the promise that they would protect us. I was a fool._

_Death and destruction was my gift to those of Camlann, the sanctuary for those who wished to be under the Shepherd’s protection. Maotelus’ shrine destroyed by the feet of the soldiers of Hyland, twisted in his rage when I took him under the promise of protection. The pact would never be pure, the wish of a fool that had sought to change the world once again._

_But his power would never be mine, my child. You would be cursed with it. Though I believed it would with a weapon before me, the solid strength of the pact made with Maotelus. I have seen the power of Maotelus passed upon you but I must believe this weapon holds the key to unlocking something greater. You will understand in time, my boy. You alone will be able to wield the power that this weapon holds, crafted by Maotelus himself._

_This however is something I cannot teach you, something you must learn on your own. I have no knowledge with which to guide you. Your mother gave her life to protect the seal which faded away with her life, and I shall die so that you may have the power needed. I have seen that a savior will not always come, so perhaps a destroyer is needed. I have cursed you with such a path._

_I pray to what good is left within Maotelus that you will succeed, that cursing one with a path of darkness as opposed to the saving light the Shepherd represents is what must be done. Embrace it as you only can my dearest boy. You alone have the power to succeed where I have failed. I can give you nothing more than a hope that in the end my final failure will be the strength you need. My treasured nephew, beloved child, I believe you will find your strength._

_Michael_

Mikleo let the worn paper drop for a moment. He didn’t want to accept it, still wanted to deny that his uncle’s body was out there. The paper brushed over bare fingers and it made the slightest of sounds against the ground. He reached down and lifted up the paper, the texture against his fingers. The old paper folded easily before he slid it into the pack. Silence seemed to echo as he dropped a hand.

There was nothing left for him here in Camlann. There was nothing to hold him, just the fate that had been handed to him. Slowly Mikleo forced himself to take a step forward, away from his only home. 

 

It felt like trying to empty a flooding river with a bucket and a part of Sorey knew there had to be an end, somewhere. He knew what the end was. The Lord of Calamity, Maotelus. Or at least he guessed it was Maotelus. Sorey really didn’t know if it was him or if there was something else out there just as nasty. Lailah hadn’t really been all that clear on it. Or really anything. 

But if he had to travel to find his own answers he really wasn’t going to complain. An entire world was out there, just waiting, and Sorey would learn everything he could in earnest. 

As much as he wished it was for a different reason this was what he had. “Lailah, how long do we have?” 

“Until what Sorey?” 

Sorey looked up towards the sky, the darkness that seemed to almost swallow it whole. The light wasn’t able to permeate this darkness. What did normal people see when they looked at the sky? Did they see a clear sky? Maybe, he had seen a clear sky before he became Shepherd. But it hadn’t been that bad either. 

He frowned as he looked back towards Lailah. “Until the Malevolence destroys everything.” 

She sadly shook her head. “No matter what Sorey, you cannot rush to face him,” her hands folded and rested against her abdomen as she stared down at the ground. “You must discover your own answers before you can do so.” 

“But what if it takes too long? What will happen then?” 

“Oh look, a bird!” Lailah brought a hand up and shielded her eyes as she scanned the sky. Maybe he just needed to find someone who could tell him what he needed to know. Though now that he thought about it that was a really stupid idea. 

Really, who would know that much? 

Sorey had a good idea who, but then he was back to the problem. 

Grass crunched underfoot as Sorey walked across the ground. Everything seemed to be darker, almost devoid of life. Even if the grass was still green it felt as if the Malevolence permeated even the land. It was dying, but not dead like Camlann had been. However stopping to think on it really wasn’t his brightest idea. 

Make it one of his stupider ones. 

The ground shook as the deafening screech echoed. Claws slammed down nearly on top of him and Sorey jerked away. “Lailah!” 

She moved smoothly, the papers in her hands as the flames curled. Sorey barely trusted himself to look up and when he did he really didn’t want to. Whatever it was he was pretty sure it could eat him alive in one bite. Was it a hellion? It could be, and that meant he could purify it. 

Sorey choked on a breath as he yanked out the ceremonial sword and the jaw snapped at him. 

Teeth gnashed as a wicked tail whipped towards him. Sorey groaned as he hit the ground and barely managed to scramble back up. One step closer was taken and he swore he didn’t trip, but somehow the earth was rising up to meet him. 

“Sorey!” 

He groaned as he clasped at his head and looked up. His sight was bleary but the creature wasn’t going after him. Or at least Sorey didn’t think it was. It really didn’t make any sense, and even less as he saw the flash and felt the warmth of Lailah’s power inside of him. 

“Lailah?” 

“Sorey, this is a battle you cannot win.” 

A hand clenched around the ceremonial sword as he took a step back away from the creature. He was huge, and Sorey didn’t know where to start. But it mattered less with the knowledge that if left to rampage it would destroy everything. 

“Sorey, you must leave.” 

“But it’ll kill everyone.” 

“No it won’t. You must trust me Sorey.” 

He wanted to trust Lailah, but the doubt was still there. He was the Shepherd and what good was he if people were hurt while he ran? There wasn’t any time left to think about it as the creature’s head came down. Sorey could feel the heat of its breath, so close to his skin. He wouldn’t be able to dodge too many more times. 

Sorey knew Lailah was right. He just didn’t want to believe it. There should be something he could do, but there wasn’t. The thought in itself was a kick to the gut, the reality that he had never really been one to accept. Huge teeth clashed down onto the ceremonial sword, fabric ripped and skin bled as the creature threw his head. 

He hit the ground hard as fingers tried to close around his sword. Even closing his hand was a struggle but Sorey’s mind was made up the second the creature moved closer. Feet hit the ground as he moved as fast as he could away from the creature. It snapped at him a final time and the leathery wings stretched as soon as it became work to keep up with him. 

Sorey’s chest heaved as he sank down to the ground and stared at the bleeding arm. Lailah pressed her fragile hand to it, pale skin against the red of blood.

“Pretty pathetic for a Shepherd.” 

Lailah gasped as she stopped and smiled brightly for a moment. “Oh Edna, it’s been so long.” 

Edna blinked towards her and Sorey stopped as he saw the fragile form move closer to him, an umbrella open and balanced against her shoulder. “The Malevolence called my brother here. You really should fix that.” 

“That thing’s your brother?” 

 

These days it seemed crazy that they even needed to check. As much as the war ripped Glendale apart more death was always needed. The corrupt ran rampant during this time, taking what they wanted until finally they were put down. The jobs came in freely during the war, for one corrupt individual from another. 

But this one was different. 

She was too kind, too peaceful. This was not one of the types of jobs she ever took. Rose watched, crouched in the shadows. 

“I’m ready boss.” 

“We’re not accepting this job.” 

That much should had been obvious to anyone. Beside her Lunarre gave a hiss of anger. Rose knelt down once more as she watched closely. This was her mark, the job, but first she needed to know. But Princess Alisha Diphda was pure. They killed the dark, the corrupt, not a pure soul like this. The Scattered Bones were elite but they were choosy. 

They were assassins, but not of that type. Rose could never condone that type of murder. 

In some ways her life as one of the Sparrowfeathers was easier. They made their lives as merchants, the ones who would trek across the land that no one else would touch. They were the people’s only source of trade. They brought what life they could to them. 

“Our business is done here.” 

“Do you know how much this job would pay?” Lunarre turned back towards her, eyes flickering dangerously. He always had been a bit of a loose cannon. She had her own questions when it came to Lunarre. Doubts on his loyalty. 

“I know and the answer is no. I’m the boss and I make the decisions.” 

Lunarre gave another glance towards the princess as he reluctantly followed Rose through the shadows, a wicked smirk on his lips. Rose knew that sooner or later she would be forced to deal with Lunarre. There was just something about him, a dark feeling that made her stomach sick. There were a lot of things that did that lately and it had gotten so much worse since earlier. 

The sudden sick feeling that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Rose couldn’t even begin to guess at what it was. There were no answers to any of this and that bugged her. She liked knowing what was going on. With as many merchants as she was in touch with she always had information. But a lot of people didn’t even notice something different. 

It was weird. It was such an instant change so how come almost no one else got it? 

Well she couldn’t dwell on it. Just keep charging forward and don’t worry about any of this stuff. As long as she held her head high she was just fine. They would all be just fine. The shadows welcomed her like an old friend and Eguille waited for her. Clothing was quickly changed with the black hidden. 

“Well, let’s go!” Rose smiled brightly as she strode out next to him. “Anything good?” 

“There was quite a bit of trading but with costs what they are and gald as scarce as it is…” 

She got the point. “Might as well stay around here for a bit then! The capital has the most money.” 

“If you’re certain about that.” 

“Of course I am! Gotta get supplies out and get with the trading. What better place to do it? The little places unfortunately are a mess and we gotta make a living too.” 

“Of course,” Eguille gave a nod. 

“Where’s the others?” 

“Trying to do just that.” 

“Then lets hop to it!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologize. I have not forgotten this story and never meant to leave it this long. Anyways thank you for the wonderful reviews and I hope everyone continues to enjoy it.

“Ow!” Sorey rubbed his side as the tip of the umbrella jabbed hard into it. He looked down at the girl who lifted it over her shoulder once again. It rested lightly against her shoulder before she turned back to look towards him. 

“Don’t you know anything?”

“What am I supposed to know?” Sorey looked between the two Seraphim, confused. He really had no idea what she was even talking about. He didn’t know what he was supposed to know, just that Maotelus was most likely the Lord of Calamity that he had to kill, that he had moved, and he really needed to track down Mikleo like gramps had told him to. 

“Well this one’s lame,” Edna said dryly as she turned away and spun the umbrella. 

“Uh…” Sorey scratched the back of his head. He really had no idea what he was supposed to know. Was it something about the creature? Edna turned around, bored, her tone deadpan. 

“The amount of Malevolence is calling those that carry it.” 

“That creature was a hellion?” 

“A dragon. A Seraph that has been consumed by Malevolence,” Edna turned back, her gaze bored. “Don’t you even know that much?” 

“Uh…” Sorey stared down towards Edna. Gramps had taught him about humans, told him to stay away from hellions. Maybe he had told him more. He couldn’t really remember a lot of what he had told him. History was far more interesting, exploring the ruins and learning everything he could. “So your brother turned into a dragon and he’s drawn to the high level of Malevolence?” 

“Congratulations. It permeated your skull,” Edna turned back towards him as Sorey stared down at her.

“Okay…” it felt like a lot of information and Sorey really didn’t like the idea of dragons appearing. There were too many towns, already filled with fear, they didn’t need the fear of a dragon.

“Sorey we must leave.” 

“But the people of Ladylake-“ 

“Cannot be helped. You would only throw your life away,” Lailah stared down before she looked up at Edna. “Lady Edna, would you consider giving your aid?” 

“Why?” She twirled her umbrella as she turned away from them. 

Sorey didn’t know how she could help them. He was the only one that could wield the flames of purification, right? And that was only threw Lailah. Or at least that was what he thought she had said before. But Sorey couldn’t be sure. Lailah wasn’t always easy to understand. 

“If we eliminate the Lord of Calamity it’ll quit drawing all the hellions out, right? So your brother will be safe from humans if we do that.” 

“You believe humans can harm my brother?” 

“You don’t want him to be hurt, right? Wouldn’t it be better if he was back where he was?” 

Edna turned, the face as bland as ever. Sorey almost winced, certain he was going to be hit again. He didn’t want to leave a dragon loose but Lailah wouldn’t let him go. It ached, knowing that people were going to die. They had enough danger in this world. Only Lailah’s insistence kept him rooted in his spot and he hated it. 

He wanted to help them. 

Edna’s blue eyes locked on them as her shoulders fell. “Fine, if this is going to keep my brother safe, make me a sublord. But only until my brother’s safe.” She drew out an item from behind her umbrella. 

“Oh Edna, you actually have a divine artifact?” 

Sorey blinked as he glanced between the two. “What’s a sublord? Or a divine artifact?” He really really wished that Lailah would explain these things to him. It really wasn’t helping that he didn’t really know anything. 

She giggled lightly as Edna stared at him. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Well will someone explain it!” 

 

Mikleo’s fingers hurt, ripped open by the bowstring. It had only taken leaving Camlann until he stopped. The arrows held up more than he had ever thought pieces of wood would. He hadn’t been able to stop, maybe for days. He lost track of time until the dark kept him from seeing the target. 

He wasn’t any expert but at least he could hit something relatively on target now. 

The injured hand held his staff, the bow and quiver attached to his back. The weight felt strange compared to his staff. 

“Bout time we got moving.” 

He didn’t want to think about Zaveid, but he was impossible to forget when he spent so much time trying to get him to move. If anything he had mastered at least one thing. Ignoring Zaveid. 

Not that that helped for long. Ignoring him just made him talk more. 

Mikleo was silent, barely speaking a word. He didn’t dare, not with his uncle’s crushed body so fresh in his memory. Maotelus had done this, killed his uncle, and now he was supposed to use this weapon to kill him. He didn’t have any idea what special power it held, if any. He didn’t care about it. He didn’t want his power to grow. He wanted his uncle back. He wanted time to be reversed to a time when the seal had never broken. 

But it was a foolish desire. Time could never be reversed. 

This was his fate and he hated every second of it. 

He knew that the Malevolence should be whispering to him, in the position he was in, but the numbness seemed to hold it at bay. Or maybe it was just something much darker. Maybe he had lived for too long in the darkness that now that it sought to choke him every inch of him resisted it. 

Maybe this was just another thing he hated, that the evil of Camlann had conditioned him for such a thing. 

Mikleo didn’t know any longer and he didn’t care either. It was as if the fire once deep within him had burned out until not even coals that could light again were left.

“Well would you talk about trouble.” 

Mikleo jerked his head up and his hand tightened around his staff. Men clad in armor. He could only assume it was soldiers, like those that had destroyed Camlann and corrupted Maotelus in the first place. He could fight his way out, push his way past. He only had one thing he needed to do. 

And he couldn’t let them stop him. 

But more people would die. They weren’t corrupted by Malevolence, those he had no choice but to kill. The idea of looking at a human and ending their lives made him sick. He killed those corrupted by Malevolence because he had no choice. He took on the burden of their deaths and he would continue to do so as his uncle had taught him. 

Even the thought made Mikleo all too aware of the hollow that rested in his chest, empty of any feeling. The tears had long been spent, the pain replaced by the numbness he had since become too familiar with. 

“Who goes there? Present your permit,” they stood there, stood straight over the small teen. The amethyst eyes locked forward as Mikleo tightened his hand around the staff. He didn’t even know what they were talking about. Even if most of those of the outside world were greedy as his uncle had said it didn’t make sense. 

“Permit!” A sword was brought down as two more stepped forward. “Then you’re an intruder.” 

Two more stepped forward as Mikleo clenched tighter to the staff. Knuckles grew white as he watched them. He couldn’t have their blood on his hands too. His power was to destroy Maotelus and the Malevolence, not normal humans. He lived for enough souls without humans added to it. 

“Y’know, you could always knock a few heads together.” 

“But they’re innocent people,” Mikleo turned back towards Zaveid and shot him a glower. A mistake that he didn’t realize. One soldier came forward with a spear that came down upon the staff in its attempt to strike. The strength of the attack could be felt in his arms as Mikleo shoved him back. They had become a threat, but this was not what his powers should be used for. 

He had no choice but to kill those trapped within hellions but these ones were different. The hard head of the staff struck hard and slammed into the body of one as Mikleo jerked it back at hit underneath the chin of another. He heard a crack, one that seemed to echo within his mind, even as he fought. The artes seemed to call to him, whispered that this could be over within seconds. But he could also kill one of them. 

The truth tore at his mind and Mikleo jerked upright as the powerful strike knocked another back and the wind seemed to rip around them. He couldn’t hear anything else but that, and he slammed the end of his staff against the ground. 

“So you’d rather not get out of here, huh Mikiddo.” 

He would find a way out of it without killing any more than he had to. Corrupt or not, this was not the work of Malevolence. 

“Not like this,” his hands clenched around his staff. What would happen if he started killing humans? What would he become? Just a murderer. He could remember all too well his uncle’s body left to rot in Camlann. The soldiers approached cautiously, the head of a spear against his throat. It wavered, the arms holding it shaking. 

They were afraid of him. Even if he hadn’t called on his power Zaveid had attacked them. Mikleo swallowed hard as the tip of the spear continued to waver and left a scratch across his throat. 

“You come to our borders without a permit, armed. If you were sent by Hyland you are hardly a successful advance.” 

_Hyland?_

Mikleo jerked his head to the side and the tip of the spear instantly pressed harder against his throat. They would try to kill him if he tried to run. He would have to kill them. If they were hellions this story would be completely different. He could kill them without qualm, bear their souls as he always had done. 

“Lemme guess, you don’t know anything.” 

“Shut up,” Mikleo hissed as one moved closer. He watched him like he was nothing but a wild animal that could strike at any instant. Maybe to them he was, no better than the hellions that they would never be able to understand. If this was what the outside world was maybe it was stupid to save it. His uncle had sacrificed his life for this, these people. 

They watched him closely, bodies tense as they moved. A cut to the side of his neck told Mikleo he was surrounded as a hand yanked the bow, quiver, and pack from him. Firm hands gripped him, the tips close enough to leave sharp pain. A shallow breath was taken as his hand relaxed and tightened again around his staff. 

Those things were all he had left. That which his uncle had left him and they handled it roughly, dumped the bow and arrows to the ground and kicked them away roughly. He was sickened by the way they threw all he had carelessly to the ground. The book hit hard as they pulled through the pack. 

The dust flew in the air as it lay there, unceremoniously kicked aside. Eyes stared blankly at it as the sick feeling twisted his gut, consumed his mind. It was handwritten by his uncle, the ink worn but in his hand. Items continued to fall to the ground, stepped on and dirtied until they reached the Shepherd’s cloak. They stared at it for a moment, whispered words as they exchanged looks. 

“What is this?”

“A cloak.” 

“You’re him, the rumors of the Shepherd in a blue and white cloak come from Hyland to destroy us,” the soldier snapped as the sword was pressed to his throat. “You’re Hyland’s Shepherd.” 

“You should read your own histories, for one-“ 

“Silence!” Eyes locked down on him as the sword pressed harder. It stung as it cut and left a line of red against Mikleo’s throat. 

“Mikiddo, might want to make with the killing now.” 

“Shut up Zaveid! I’ve got it handled.” 

“Hey, who am I to save your ass,” Zaveid held his hands up and took a step back. 

“Who are you talking to, Shepherd!” 

Mikleo felt the knot in his throat, the clenching in his chest. His uncle had warned him of the way the outside world had abandoned Seraphim. Why would they be able to see them if they had abandoned them? But that wasn’t his concern. Leave that to the Shepherd that was rumored to have arrived. His duty was to destroy Maotelus. 

“Arrest him,” the spears poked harder, hard against his back. He could still fight, still take them down, but he couldn’t hurt these people. No matter what they were they weren’t his enemy. That was Maotelus and hellions. 

“Good luck on this one Mikiddo.” 

“I don’t see you coming up with a better solution!” Eyes focused on the soldiers as the sharp weapons continued to push, tense at the belief that he was the Shepherd, some weapon of Hyland. It didn’t help matters that he was speaking to a Seraph none of them could see. 

 

“What was that?” 

The sound was enough to wonder if the entire world was being ripped apart. The screams of those that scattered were like music to his ears. So beautiful. 

Lunarre’s gaze flickered around, sharp but annoyed at the mayhem that he could not be a part of. This was a waste, following like this and hoping for trade. They had been offered a job, one that the boss had refused to take. Becoming an assassin had suited him fine, better than what they had been before. But there were rules, only kill those that the ‘boss’ determined deserved to die. Those who were corrupt. 

He hated it, these rules that made them only accept certain contacts. Death was death, and it had become his craft. And corrupt or not, he enjoyed it. Had he always been like this? Lunarre couldn’t remember, but now bloodshed was something he wanted, something he needed. 

“Whatever it was it sure got people hiding,” Rose put her hands on her hips as she looked over the area and Lunarre stood his position. The sounds became louder as Rose took a step forward and looked towards Eguille. “Any idea?” 

He shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not good.” 

He hated her. Hated the boss for being so choosy. He wanted to kill the little princess even more that Rose thought she was too pure to be killed. The idea of purity was sickening. Death was the only way these days. Let the bodies rot as corpses were piled up in their wake. 

They were assassins. 

The scent of death was like a fragrance, but still they sat there. What did pure and evil matter? They would all die. They were given a job, they took a life, they were paid. There was more money to be had in this reality than in any other. Playing at merchants was a waste of time when they could just kill. 

Destroy, maim, reap, devour… 

The words were like music to his ears, the hunger for blood and violence only whetted by what he was allowed to do. 

He could leave, leave now, but he would get nothing but satisfaction for killing the princess. That fool Rose had already turned down the contract. But he could break free from her suffocating goodness.

“I say we take our cue from the rest of them and take cover.”

“You heard the boss!” Eguille motioned with a yell as they piled into the cart, their only protection.

There was something in the air, something satisfying. He wanted to immerse himself in this, savor it. These patches of purity were no more than an appetizing meal, waiting to be destroyed. And he would do just that, soon enough. He would not remain under Rose’s thumb for long, kept from what everything within him called him to do. Maybe he would kill her first. Perhaps he would carry on the mantle of the Scattered Bones. 

Good, evil, it made no difference to him. They were his prey who he would be paid to destroy. And then it came, a screech like roar as a huge foot slammed down. Its darkness called to him, made him want to join the creature in the mayhem. This creature had the right idea. 

The screams echoed as the creature snapped its jaw around one person and blood dripped down its fangs. Drops fell onto the ground followed by the thump of a broken body. Fire erupted from its mouth as Lunarre jumped out and landed lightly. 

Yes, it was time to join the mayhem. 

“Lunarre!” Rose hurried out and then skidded to a stop as she turned towards the creature. Hands tightened around her daggers as eyes locked up on the creature. The idea of her death was something truly beautiful. He licked his lips as the creature stood its ground and snapped towards the girl. 

The only thing he wished was that it could be him.


End file.
